


Dark Matter

by Imogen_Penn



Series: Times Like These [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 01:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 58,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_Penn/pseuds/Imogen_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one had ever intentionally hurt her before in her whole life. No one had ever raised a hand against her in violence. The fear of it and the inability to control the situation was just as bad as the pain itself. </p>
<p>And it pissed her the fuck off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beware

**Author's Note:**

> This work was initially published on FF.net and Tumblr. This version has been edited and some minor updates have been made. Most notably, I finally got around to giving the chapters real titles. Huge thank you to everyone has already read / reviewed / liked this mess. You all are the reason it got finished and made it here!

 

"So take aim children take aim  
The drill sargeant sang  
With ample perspiration ordered  
Stop your respiration  
And end the flow of oxygen to the brain"

 - "Beware" (Andrew Bird)

 

Darcy was out. Way out. Like, hazy, sepia-tone flashback out.

That whole Norse gods, giant metal fire-monster thing was something that she couldn’t quite connect with herself. Like how summer vacation never seems to be real by the beginning of October.

Turns out, super-secret government organizations don’t give the intern who accidentally got caught up in world changing events a _job_ , they give her a huge stack of non-disclosure agreements and tell her not to contact Jane again. Ever.

That sucked, but what’s a girl to do in the face of a room full of black suits who could probably kill you with their pinky finger? Well, being honest, it was more the look on Jane’s face when she said “I won’t bring you into this Darcy _. I won’t_. It’s not safe.”

So she moved on. She finished her political science degree (finally). Wallowed through a master’s degree and finally talked her way into job as an assistant to a campaign planner on a pretty important senatorial campaign. Things were going _well_.

Which is why Darcy could not quite understand why she had been dragged back. She couldn’t wrap her head around why leaving Senator Selkirk’s campaign office was the last thing she remembered before this cold cement floor, this dimly lit ceiling crisscrossed by ductwork and walkways, and the uncomfortable weight of metal shackles on her wrists.

Her head hurt and her mouth felt fuzzy, but she dragged herself to a seated position anyways. There was a clock ticking somewhere. The seconds ticked by like hours, amplified by the brushed cement floor and the heavy brick walls.

The building she was in looked like some kind of warehouse. A few yards away there was a heavy steel door that Darcy didn’t have to get any closer to to know that it wasn’t going to be her way out of here. There were no windows, and the only light in the room came from a bare fluorescent panel, humming monotonously against one wall.

A hook hung from the ceiling attached to a series of pulleys, like the ones used for packing heavy boxes. Darcy noticed that it was hanging directly over a drain in the floor. Her overactive imagination had just enough time to take her to places that make her break into a cold sweat before the door opened and a man walked in.

Two slow seconds passed by: tick, tock.

He was tall, broad shouldered, probably in his mid 50s, but the sort of mid 50s that looks like it could kick the crap out of most 20 year olds. There were no weird capes or costumes, no robot appendages. He wore simple, vaguely military, black pants, well shined boots, and a black t-shirt. He did not look like the type to be kidnapping 27 year old PR assistants from campaign offices. 

Then again, he was also followed by a heavily armed, very mean looking flunky in black fatigues and a beret, so you never knew, did you?

“Good morning Miss Lewis,” he said, quite calmly, “I’m glad to see that you’re awake.” He smiled at her in a disarming manner and then made a quick motion to the soldier who had followed him in. She was jarred to her feet, the soldier dragging her manacled hands up in front of her and throwing the chain that linked the cuffs on her wrists over the hook that hung from the ceiling. The other man pressed a button on a wall control and the hook began to rise up with a grinding clank, pulling painfully on Darcy’s arms and leaving her barely able to put any weight on her toes.

Tick, tock.

“I’m going to be reasonable here Ms. Lewis” he said.

And Darcy had to laugh at that as her feet scrambled for purchase on the slick concrete floor and the metal of the cuffs dug into her wrists.

“Reasonable is a meeting over coffee,” she said. “This? This is insane.” She was aware that she sounded a bit hysterical, but she was also pretty sure that this was exactly the sort of situation that called for hysteria.

“Desperate times, Miss Lewis” he said, withdrawing a wicked looking blade from a sheath that sat against his hip.

A deep and unsettling feeling exploded in her belly. She was pretty sure it was panic. “Hey hey hey!” Darcy exclaimed, ineffectually trying to draw away “I can be reasonable here! I don’t even know what the hell you want! Shouldn’t you be asking some questions before things get all…knifey?”

“Very astute Miss Lewis,” he said, advancing towards her “But I always find that it is more effective to present the inducement and then ask the questions. It’s a fairly basic negotiation tactic. I will present to you what I am offering and then I will ask for what I want in return. Does that sound fair, Miss Lewis?” He placed the tip of the blade against her breastbone.

All that was running through her head, oddly enough, was that he had terrible coffee breath. And then she was suddenly struck by an image of this guy, sitting quietly at his desk, sipping a coffee, telling his wife he’ll be a bit late for dinner, and drawing up world class psycho take over the world plans. Somehow, this made him far more terrifying than if he was wearing some weird costume and indulging in evil laughter.

And the light buzzed, and the clock ticked away, and she thought about sunlight.

“I don’t suppose what I think really matters, does it?” she said carefully, her voice only shaking a little.

“No Miss Lewis,” he sounded almost apologetic, “it does not.” His knife flashed in the dim light.

Darcy winced, expecting to feel the blade, but instead all she felt was a draft. He had sliced her shirt down the front. He then proceeded to make two careful cuts across the shoulders and it fell away. She watched it a little sadly, it had not been cheap. She was still adjusting to how much professional attire actually cost compared to her largely thrift-store based college wardrobe.

Apparently, she was also still adjusting to the situation, because she was pretty sure that being worried about her clothing budget should not be her top priority when she was chained to the ceiling in a room with a crazy kidnapper who had just left her in her pencil skirt and white lace bra. Maybe she was in shock. She shivered.

“Sergeant” the man called out in a clipped tone.

The soldier in the black fatigues stepped up beside him crisply. She wondered if any of them actually bought the whole playing military thing, like surplus fatigues, salutes and a rank somehow made villains into honorable men.

“Give Miss Lewis a demonstration if you will.” He said as he stepped away from her. The ‘sergeant’ walked around behind her, unclipping a truly awful looking braided whip from his belt. He uncoiled it with a purpose and efficiency that made Darcy notice how large his biceps really were and made her eyes widen in fear as he disappeared behind her.

She knew it was coming, and yet there was nothing in her life that could prepare her for it. The whip cracked across the exposed skin of her back twice in quick succession. She rocked forward onto her toes from the force of it, the added pressure on the cuffs at her wrist nothing against the burning, blinding pain in her back. No one had ever intentionally hurt her before in her whole life. No one had ever raised a hand against her in violence. The fear of it and the inability to control the situation was just as bad as the pain itself.

And it pissed her the fuck off.

“Now Miss Lewis,” he said, his voice still calm and smooth, “I am offering to let you walk out of here in exchange for one piece of information.” He pulled a small wooden chair over and sat facing her, neatly crossing one leg over the other knee. “All I want to know is the last piece of the bi-frost equation, the connection that Dr. Foster never wrote down in her files.”

Buzz…tick, what?

And now Darcy was pissed the fuck off with a generous helping of confused. She looked up at him, “and you thought _I_ would know something about Jane’s crazy math? Boy have you got the wrong girl.”

“I’m going to ask you again Ms. Lewis, it is very simple. What is the connection? How did Dr. Foster rebuild the rainbow bridge?” The voice is oddly calm and sterile, a direct counterpoint to the dirty, gritty, painful reality that Darcy had found herself in.

“What, the rainbow connection?” Darcy said, “little green frog, ‘the lovers the dreamers and me’? Boy you must have had a rough childhood.” Because she wasn’t going to be a _girl_ about this. And sarcasm had always come easy to her.

She got it now, she never used to get it, why the heroes in action movies chose to mouth off rather than cooperate. Cooperation was not an option: them, because of duty and honor and all that bullshit; her because she just didn’t have the answer.

“Very amusing Miss Lewis,” came the voice again. “I know you think you are hurting now, but I promise you I can make it much, much worse.” The voice was smooth, soothing, and utterly chilling. “All we need is one tiny piece of information. We know you handled all of Dr. Foster’s data, so we know that you have the information we are after.”

“Hey, I can tell you all about her spreadsheet color codes if you want, but all the numbers might as well have been Chinese to me.” She cut out through gritted teeth.

He sighed, “It is unfortunate that you are planning to be difficult Miss Lewis. I had so hoped we could resolve this like reasonable people.” He made a gesture with his hand and the whip came down across Darcy’s back again. She cried out in pain and anger.

“Look, I got coffee, I did the spreadsheets, I spell checked, even the most basic of the actual physics stuff was beyond me.” She was trying _so_ hard not to panic here. Maybe the crazy kidnapper would listen to reason, right? It was hard to think clearly through the pain, she thought her reasoning might be a bit off.

“Your loyalty to Dr. Foster is admirable Miss Lewis, but unnecessary.” He stood and began pacing rather dramatically. “All I am attempting to do here is restore order. The Avengers, and Thor foremost among them, have brought this country and indeed the world into great peril. Before Dr. Foster opened the bi-frost, our problems were our own. And now they have brought the troubles of the universe upon us and given the government that controls them an iron grip over this nation. All I want is to overthrow the tyranny that has taken over the US government and to do that, I need to make sure the Avengers are eliminated. That is where you come in Miss Lewis. I must be able to close the bi-frost. In the name of justice Miss Lewis, and the responsibility of man to rise up against leaders who are no longer responsible to the people.”

Darcy knew she should be crying and cowering, it was pretty much what she thought she’d be doing in this sort of situation. Turns out, her fight or flight response was super confrontational and really stupid. She let out a choked laugh. “Been working on the monologue for a while there Shakespeare?”

She felt a mild satisfaction at the faint look of chagrin that crossed his face, but it was quickly drowned out by screaming agony. She may be responding oddly aggressively to the situation, but she was not even attempting to stop herself from screaming. Tears ran down her face, and she wasn’t sure if they were of fear, pain, frustration, or anger.

The clock was becoming unbearably loud to her.

“Look,” she croaked out damply,” it’s not like this doesn’t really really hurt, and the pain is very effective, I promise. It’s just that your listening skills need some work, I have _no idea_ about Jane’s math.” Sarcasm aside, she was pleading for her life, and wasn’t even a little bit ashamed of it.

He strode up to her and grabbed her face in a way that was sure to leave bruises. Well, she supposed in an oddly detached way, you didn’t become a psycho who wanted to bring down the Avengers and the government without some anger issues.

“Miss Lewis,” he hissed at her. She was really starting to hate being called that. “We know that you were with Dr. Foster from the time of the last data entered into her files until the point when the bi-frost was opened. You know what information was missing from her files and you _will_ tell me Miss Lewis, or you will die in agony.” He was screaming at her by the end of it. Darcy felt like vomiting, but when she opened her mouth…

“You should deal with that coffee breath” was all that came out. Ahhh, word vomit then. When she got out of here, Darcy was pretty sure she needed some intense psychotherapy to find out why her brain was behaving like such an idiot. “And I still have no idea what information you’re looking for.”

He exclaimed at her in frustration and anger, grabbing a fistful of hair and wrenching her head painfully back. “Think about your choices Miss Lewis. Think hard. Because I will be back. Sergeant!” He called abruptly and they left her there, hanging from the cuffs.

Several long second ticked away, the sound of the clock echoing against Darcy’s harsh breathing in the empty room, the buzz of the light unbearably loud in the silence.

And she did think. She tried to picture Jane’s scribbled notes on the whiteboard in front of a crowd of agents, she tried to picture all those memos of photocopied handwritten instructions that were passed around when they were jerry rigging the mechanics that brought Thor back, but the whole reason that it wasn’t in Jane’s file was that it was _rushed_ and _never_ going to be published. She was sure the government had it somewhere this guy couldn’t hack, but photo recall wasn’t her thing.

That was okay with her. She wasn’t stupid; the guy wasn’t wearing a mask. She was dead if she talked or not, and not having the information made it _way_ easier to mouth off. At this point, she was getting down to “ways she could die faster” plans. She sincerely hoped she made a really extreme mess for them to clean up.

So yeah, she was terrified and she didn’t want to die, and she cried and screamed for a while and she did produce some actual vomit. But by the time they came back, she had settled into a curious emptiness. At least she wasn’t going to go out by betraying her friend, even if she wanted to.

She felt detached from the real world by a few paces, except for the pain, and the buzz of the light, and the clock ticking away towards the end.

After a few more whip cracks, blood stared to pool around her feet and her skirt stuck to her, clammy and cold. Her throat was raw from screaming in pain, yelling every curse word she knew. Her attempts to be clever were getting less funny, but she soldiered on.

Tick, tock.

The second time they left, she passed out.

It became a pattern. They came, there was pain, bright and sharp, they would leave, and she would fade away from the pain and the hunger and the horror of it all. They would come back, dump a bucket of water on her, and start again.

Buzz. Tick, tock.

At one point, they felt the whip was not enough, the pain when they unhooked her chained wrists was incredible as the blood rushed back into her battered wrists.

And then the sergeant started breaking the fingers on her left hand.

She screamed. The sergeant hurt her. Shakespeare monologued, she passed out. It was like some sort of horrible montage.

Buzz. Tick, tock.

As one frame of this nightmare was drawing to a close, he hissed in her face.  “I am growing tired of asking nicely.”

She managed a strained laugh “yeah I bet your mother is real proud of your good manners.”

“You are starting to really piss me off Miss Lewis. All I need is the link, the one _fucking_ missing piece. What is it Miss Lewis?”

She said nothing, which was pretty normal by this point, and he stalked off, also normal. Only it wasn’t, because somewhere in the part of her that was still tied to the real world, something clicked into place.

Tick…

And all of a sudden, Darcy knew what they were looking for. And they were right, she did have the information.

She had been there when Jane figured it out. They had spent months out in the desert and Jane had come so far, but kept being pretty incomprehensible about the elusive “third point”.

“Triangulation,” she had explained to Darcy “plotting the movement of objects through space. You need three values. If you think about it on a simple graph, you need to know the x value, the up and down, the y value, the side to side, and the z value, the near and far” she said as she scribbled on the lab white board. “But we’re dealing with dimensions here, so it’s not quite as simple, but the same principle applies. To unfold the connection to Asgard, we need the alignment, which we have - you’ve organised those star charts, the dimensional distance, which we’ve got now, but there’s a third point.”

“So,” said Darcy, trying to wrap her head around Jane’s cryptic whiteboard pictogram “You’ve got the when and the where, but not the how?”

Jane froze. “The how?” she started scribbling madly on the board “Of course! I was stuck in a directional mentally, but the transitional vector doesn’t matter if we have to cross the energy matter spectrum!”

Darcy looked at her blankly. “Uhhh, English?”

Jane kissed her full on the mouth “You are a genius!” she said “Energy! We’re missing the energy!”

Shortly after that, a bunch of those crazy SHIELD guys had shown up with this weird blue thing and then bam. Thor was in, Darcy was out.

And now she knew. And there was still no way she could tell them. Not only did she still kinda feel bad about tasering Thor, but he was a pretty good guy and he and his buddies sort of save the world a lot, so opening up his home and the source of his power to attack by the crazies? Probably not a good move for the world.

But something was not normal elsewhere as well. She dimly realised as she hear static from walkie talkies and a few alarmed male voices, and boots on concrete from outside the door.

He came back in almost right away. Definitely not normal. Her brain was working sluggishly though and she couldn’t process this new development.

He walked over to her and kicked out savagely, a steel toed boot slammed into the side of the chair she was tied to, knocking her over sideways. Unable to break her fall, her shoulder slammed into the ground, pooping out of the socket with a sickening crunch. Darcy cried out once and then bit her lip until she could taste blood, just desperately trying not to move, trying not to make it worse.

She lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, whimpering.  Yeah, she figured that was fine now. Since she was probably about to die. She had managed to process the gun in his hand.

A steel toed boot slammed into her side. She thought she felt a rib crack. But so did the wooden chair. Though the pain in her left shoulder is agonising, she could feel the tension on her arms from where they were tied to the chair go slack. She held still. Wouldn’t do her any good if they found out.

“It’s a simple thing, Miss Lewis” he draws out her name, sibilant and forced, like this really was his best effort at good manners “all we want to do is even the odds a little. How responsible do you really think a government can be when they have gods and monsters on their side? Do you think it’s fair that our government can enforce its will on the people through the violence of their super soldiers? Do you really want _Tony Stark_ ,” he almost spat out the name “to be the power behind the throne? Let them lose their ability to call on gods, let them lose their superhuman mutants and their machines, and then let us see how well they reflect the will of the people. Let us see how long they can hold on to power then.”

“In the face of your world domination plans? You know, I really prefer a villain who can be honest with himself, if we’re telling the truth here. Stop pretending to nobility you fucking piece of shit.” Suddenly the right side of her face exploded in agony and she spat out a mouthful of blood. She blearily searched for something to come back with. “And here I thought I put my _own_ foot in my mouth a lot.” It came out mumbled, Darcy gave herself a C+ for wit at best.  She was going to die, she was pretty sure.

The cocked dragged over two more seconds. Tick, tock.

She would like to have been feeling all calm and noble about it, but she was terrified. She was thankful that they probably couldn’t see the tears running down her face what with all the blood. She was pretty sure she was going to vomit any minute now. Apparently vomit and sarcasm was how her body tried to cope. Awesome. She just hoped they’d do it before she lost the last shreds of her grip on reality and told them whatever they wanted.

She heard an odd, muffled thump from somewhere outside the heavy metal door to her concrete cell. The man stormed over to the door and looked out. She couldn’t quite process what was going on, but this seemed like a pretty good time to test the cracked chair.

She slid her hands downwards, whimpering at the pain, but she figured that was pretty much expected when you were just some civilian chick lying bleeding on a concrete floor. The back of the chair was completely separated from the seat on one side. She managed to slip the chain underneath it, and the pain in her arms decreased a bit. The other side of the chair back was loose. Darcy was pretty sure she could get free of it pretty quickly if she had to.

“You are becoming a serious liability Miss Lewis.” He looked _pissed_ “for such a little girl.”

Her brain was still ticking slowly along, whirring along to the pace of the clock, and while it hadn’t quite caught up yet, that statement caused a flare of hope somewhere deep underneath the haze. Darcy looked up towards the ceiling, far away in the dim light, cluttered with pipes and railings. She thought about praying. She thought about Jane. She also connected to the fact that the ceiling was blinking back at her, which was also somewhat out of the ordinary. She gathered her focus.

Eyes, attached to a pale face. A finger against lips, scary intensity. Oh. Oh. Yes that was hope. It drew her back to herself.

“I bet you say that to all the girls” she managed to croak out through her ravaged throat, not taking her eyes off the steady blue ones looking back at her. She thought she saw him, whoever he was, smile.

“I’ll give you one last chance, Miss Lewis, what’s the link? Tell me,” he cocked the gun “help me put an end to this destructive government. Help me put an end to the tyranny of the Avengers, and I will let you live.”

A silent second ticked by.

“No fucking way” said Darcy with as much venom as she could manage “not if it means listening to _one_ more minute of goddamn monologuing.”

She heard a new sound, one she recognised quite well from the movies. It was a lot scarier in person. A round clicked into a chamber, light glinted off of a barrel. It all happened incredibly fast. An arrow flew from above her and hit her captor in the shoulder. A scream of rage flew from him and he swung the barrel of the gun upwards. Darcy immediately rolled to her knees, used her freed hand to crack through the rest of the chair, and lashed out with her foot, flinging the chair at the man as he fired wildly at the ceiling. A good chunk of the chair hit him square in the face. Darcy thought she saw blood, but everything was getting pretty hazy. She could vaguely appreciate that her captor was getting away. He was flying, but that made no sense. And she couldn’t move to go after him. There were blue eyes looking at her and someone said her name. Then nothing.

+

+

When she woke up, she was still in the big empty warehouse, except she was significantly more comfortable. She was lying on a cot, which, given that she had been expecting to wake up wet, in pain, and restrained, was pretty much heaven.

“Hey kid,” a low male voice came from beside her, withdrawing a needle from her arm. The world was starting to pick up speed.

She tried to sit up and immediately let out a loud “oh holy fuck” and then wished she hadn’t done that either because her face really hurt.

“Hey, take it easy” his voice was low and calming, like the sort of tone her Dad used to use with the unbroken horses back on the ranch. “I’ve just given you a shot of adrenaline. It’ll get you on your feet for long enough for us to catch our ride out of here and we’ve got to go fast. The rest of them will be back.”

“Back?” he must have seen the terror in her eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, looking at her as if he was waiting for a meltdown but he continued talking to her straight. She liked that, it made her feel safe. “We’ve created a diversion to draw most of them out, but they’ll figure it out eventually. We’ve probably got a few minutes here though.”

“Who the fuck _are_ you” said Darcy, without much energy, because skepticism was healthy but she wasn’t tied up anymore and the adrenaline was pushing the pain away and clearing the fog.

He grinned at her like she had just said something really witty “smart girl” he said. “Agent Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye, of the Avengers initiative” he gave her a cocky little salute.

She breathed out a little sigh of relief. But she was in absolutely no mood to be star struck. “Awfully full of yourself there, aren’t you Barton?” she croaked, but she at least attempted a smile at him while she did. She didn’t know how well it came across, her face was pretty banged up. But he laughed, so she figured he got that he was pretty much the biggest hero in the world for her at the moment.

Step aside captain America, go fuck yourself Tony Stark.

“Yes ma’am” he said, still smiling, “Jane said you weren’t much of a damsel type” he slipped an arm behind her, careful to keep it high on her shoulders, away from her ruined back. “That sort of thing can be pretty hard on a guy’s ego.”

“I’ll remember that next time and not kick a chair at the guy shooting at you” she said through clenched teeth.

“You’re a sweetheart, kid” he said sarcastically “one big hurdle before we get you out of here though” he looked serious, Darcy did _not_ like that look.

“What’s that” she asked warily.

“Your shoulder” he said “It’s gotta go back in the socket. Not even adrenaline is going to get you to the chopper with that.”

Darcy looked down at her shoulder. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t noticed the pain, but she hadn’t seen it dangling there like a dead fish. “Really?” she was pretty sure she sounded about 12, but that had to soothe Barton’s ego a bit, right?

“Really,” he said, looking at her sympathetically “But It’ll be quick, I promise kiddo.” He looked at her with steady eyes, and he was _Hawkeye_ for god’s sake, so she nodded.

“Lean forward” he said, gripping her elbow and arm firmly “and turn your head away”. She did.

“On the count of three” he said. But Darcy wasn’t an idiot, so she was expecting it on the one. She screamed louder than she thought she had left in her. Everything went a bit fuzzy for a minute. Clint was holding her shoulders steady as she retched, nothing left in her to come up.

She was crying, she realised a few moments later, and Clint’s voice was talking to her “You’re okay, you did good.”

She sniffed “promise you won’t tell anyone I almost blacked out and vommed all over Hawkeye?” she muttered.

He snorted, amused “Sure thing,” he said, “as long as you don’t tell anyone that the damsel I was supposed to rescue probably saved me a bullet by kicking a chair at the bad guy while suffering from a severe case of dislocated shoulder and shirtlessness.”

“Deal” said Darcy, “now can you please get me the fuck out of here.” Her voice sounded choked and pitiful, even to her.

“Nothing I’d rather do darling” He was way too chipper, Darcy thought, for someone in the middle of a hostage situation.

He wrapped her arms tightly against her stomach with a bandage to keep it from moving. Then he picked her up as though she were a feather pillow and moved briskly towards the door.

A sudden though struck Darcy, “Agent Barton?” she said cautiously.

“It’s Clint.”

“Clint,” she said, a little awkwardly, “thanks for saving my life. I swear I usually have better manners…it’s just kind of been a rough week for me.”

He grinned, “I bet it has. And you’re welcome.”

 She rested her head against Clint’s shoulder, the world getting a bit hazy again. Her back screaming at her, a million pains flaring to life. She must have said something.

“I know kid, I know it hurts. We’re almost there, I swear. Just hang on” and then she smiled, because she couldn’t hear anything but the wind, and everything went mercifully black.


	2. That's Enough

"So I reach but it hurts, it kills, it screams and it fills my heart with chills

and I take my pills but I’m still tired of sleeping with the light on.

But if it keeps the hair out of my eyes, pack it up. send it home.

For just one stab at the good life, that’s enough and I’m sold."

- Dan Mangan (Sold)

 

When she woke up, she was incredibly disoriented for a moment.

“Darcy?” it was Jane. Jane looked rumpled and terrible and so beautiful that Darcy started to cry.

“Darcy!” Jane leaned in from her seat beside the bed, clutching at her hand, looking alarmed. Darcy had never been particularly outwardly emotional.

“No no,” she said with a watery smile, “happy tears” She held on to Jane’s hand like a lifeline. She and Jane had grown close in the time when Thor was gone and they were fighting to bring him back. There are some experiences that create unbreakable ties, and all of a sudden, all the years of silence were gone.

“Missed you,” said Jane, her eyes shining

“You too boss,” said Darcy “Now get up here and comfort me dammit, I got all messed up.”

Jane toed off her shoes and scootched up beside Darcy, careful of the various IV and sensors trailing off of her. She put her arms around her friend and both breathed a large sigh.

“I thought you were going to die because of me,” she said finally, her eyes swimming.

“Hey now,” said Darcy, feeling a million miles away from all that, just feeling hands that loved her. And probably some really serious drugs, “did you finally _actually_ go crazy without me around? Does no one feed you anymore and this is starvation related crazy? I almost died because of some wacked out super villain, you big idiot.”

Jane let out something between a laugh and a hiccup. “There’s no pop tarts in the lab anymore,” she said with a watery smile, “I might be a little more crazy than you left me. They can’t seem to find me an assistant as good as you.”

 “Liar” said Darcy, but it didn’t stop her from hugging Jane tightly and crying into her shoulder for a while.

+

+

That happy, floating, drugged out bliss lasted until approximately 10 minutes after Jane had left. Thor had come down to the infirmary and been so incredibly sincere and careful around her that Darcy just wanted to reach up and pinch his chiseled little cheeks. Nurse Cheryl had kicked them out around 8pm to let her get some sleep, and now she was alone and there was nothing to distract her.

The pain was creeping back in as the drugs that had kept her sedated for three days since she arrived worked their way out of her system, and talking with Jane all day probably hadn’t been the best idea with a severely bruised jaw, a cut lip and two cracked teeth. Her ribs ached from sitting up all day, her shoulder throbbed, her back was a pulsing agony and a thousand other cuts and bruises made it so she just couldn’t find a place to lie on that someone hadn’t kicked before.

And that was it really. Darcy had always been a bit flighty. She had changed majors three times, taken six years to get through her undergrad and another two to get through a one year masters, but those had all been her decisions. She had changed her mind, made new plans, and made it happen. She had always felt in control of her life, even if her parents weren’t quite so sure of it.

But this, this was different. For reasons that Darcy couldn’t have anticipated, some psycho out there wanted her dead. She was a _liability_. And there was nothing she could do to control it. It didn’t matter how many super heroes were on premises, she still felt like everything, all the solid foundations she had built her life on, were spiralling away beneath her.

+

+

She didn’t sleep much that night. Somewhere in the hall, there was a clock ticking, and all the machines buzzed at her. So when Clint and a slender woman dressed in black with vibrant red hair came in the next morning, she was bleary eyed, but very much awake.

“How’d you sleep kid?” asked Clint, casually tossing himself onto the chair next to her bed and kicking his feet up onto the metal railing.

“Fine,” said Darcy in as even a voice as she could manage. Her mother had always told her it was important to be strong for people before you let yourself be weak for them. Darcy had already kind of screwed that part up, but damned if she wasn’t going to try to put herself back on a level playing field.

The redheaded woman gave her a look, Darcy couldn’t place it, but she suddenly _very_ much didn’t want to get on her bad side.

“Miss Lewis,” the redhead began, and Darcy just froze, her right hand gripping the side railing of the bed, her left, encased in a plaster cast, curling protectively around her middle.

“Don’t _call_ me that,” hissed Darcy, forgetting all about the redhead’s bad side.

The redhead looked at her curiously for a moment, glanced over at Clint, and then nodded. “Darcy,” she continued, without apology, which somehow made Darcy feel better rather than worse. “I’m Natasha Romanov, I was working your extraction op with Agent Barton.”

“Oh,” said Darcy, the tension in her body deflating, “Thank you.” It seemed so inadequate, but it was probably one of the most sincere and unsarcastic things Darcy had ever said.

Natasha just nodded.

“We’re here to give you an overview of what happened and talk to you about what comes next.” She perched gracefully on the edge of the small table at the foot of the bed.

And then Darcy made a mental connection she couldn’t believe she had missed. “You’re the Black Widow,” she said, somewhat matter of factly, because apparently this was her life now, and it wouldn’t do to get all hyperactive about it.

“Yes,” said Natasha, with mild chagrin, “Although I question Fury’s decision to publicly identify us more and more every day.”

“And then this ‘Fury’ sends you on messenger missions to invalid civilians?” Because she wasn’t quite sure what Jane had said about her that was getting her all this celebrity treatment.

“It was our op” said Clint simply and firmly, “and we see it through. Neither Tasha nor I would have it any other way.”

Natasha nodded firmly in agreement.

“The situation started,” said Natasha, clearly aiming to get them back on track, “When our Asgardian surveillance detail contacted us to indicate that you had gone off grid.”

“Asgardian _what_ now?” asked Darcy.

“Jane was having Heimdahl keep an eye on you kid. She talks about you a lot.” Said Clint with a fond smile.

“Jane’s a bit single minded about her lab assistants,” said Darcy, but she felt a bit mushy for a minute and resolved to make Jane one of her highly coveted yet rarely bestowed lasagnas as soon as she got out of here.

Natasha gave Clint a sharp look and cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, because Heimdahl was only checking in sporadically, it was a full day before we were able to locate you. By the time the op was mobilized, you had been missing for approximately 60 hours.”

“We got there as fast as we could kid” said Clint apologetically. Natasha was staring daggers at him. Boy she must _really_ hate to be interrupted.

“Couldn’t have been more than a few hours from where I was hanging,” said Darcy with a false bravado that she knew she wasn’t really carrying off. “Course I spent a fair chunk of time unconscious.”

“Always makes those hostage situations fly,” said Natasha dryly, with the _tiniest_ little grin. Darcy was putting it on her resume.

“We got dropped a few clicks away,” said Clint, “Tash created a…diversion.”

“Tactical detonation of low grade incendiary devices adjacent to their vehicle storage location.” Said Natasha with a clinical glee.

“Or ‘trucks go boom, fire pretty’ for the rest of us.” Clint finished with a grin. “And you know all about my daring rescue.”

“Which I helped execute with my extreme chair kicking skills” added Darcy, because it was somewhat bruising to her ego to be in a room with what were probably the two most ruthlessly effective people in the world.

“And then you almost hurled on me.” Clint added immediately. Oh right, they had a deal on that one.

“And what happened to the uhh…that guy…” she asked, resolutely ignoring Clint’s smug expression. It wasn’t hard, because it almost instantly changed.

“The guy in the beret is dead,” he said simply.

“Good,” said Darcy emphatically, and was only mildly surprised to find that she _meant_ it.

“Was it just a hallucination, or did the …other one…fly off?” She asked.

“Oscorp Tech” said Natasha unhelpfully.

“Flying hoverboard,” translated Clint.

“Ah.” Said Darcy, not really wanting to know any more.

“So, unfortunately for you kiddo, it means that he’s still out there, and still looking for information that you have. We’re going to keep you safe, but we need to track this guy down…” Clint trailed off.

“You’ll need to be debriefed about your experience,” said Natasha. Darcy thought it was probably what passed for _gentle_ in her expression spectrum. “As soon as possible.”

“Oh,” said Darcy, hearing her mother’s voice in her head, when her favorite little foal had caught a rabbit hole and broken a leg. _We do what needs to be done_. “Yeah, OK.” She must have looked pretty dire, because Clint reached over and patted her un-bandaged arm.

“Can’t be worse than living it kiddo.”

Which is how Darcy found herself sitting in a wheelchair, even though she could walk _perfectly_ well, thank you Nurse Cheryl, nervously tapping her cast left hand against the glass table top, pulling awkwardly at her hospital scrubs with the other, looking across a long table at a…flock? School? Hopefully not murder? of SHIELD analysts and agents.

"So," said Darcy nervously, "what do you want to know?" sitting across the table from a roomful of suits was not doing wonders for her confidence level, especially considering that this was pretty much the last thing she wanted to talk about.

 "Just start at the beginning" said Director Fury, "and we'll stop you when we have questions. His voice was calm and direct, but there is no way a guy with an eye patch isn't going to be intimidating.

She looked over at Clint, sitting just down the table from her, rather reassuring in his t-shirt in the middle of a row of suits. He nodded to her, and she held onto his words. _Can't be worse than living it kiddo_.

 She took a deep breath "I was working late at the campaign office. We had a big strategy meeting coming up" she wondered for the first time what they had thought when she hadn't shown up.

 "I remember walking out of the office around 10:30 and then I remember waking up on the floor of the warehouse."

 “So no indication of how they got to you?" asked a suit.

 "Well, I had a splitting headache when I woke up, but no actual bruises or bumps or anything, and my mouth was all cottony, so I'm going to guess chloroform or whatever drugs super villains are using these days."

 The suit wrote something down "Thanks, that's very helpful."

 "So you woke up in the warehouse" prompted Fury.

 "My hands were shackled, but nothing else, which was a bit insulting, you know, but the room was pretty secure. Big metal door, not much in it, about 20 feet square.” She found that focusing on the details was helpful. It felt more clinical, detached. The suits were scribbling.

 "I was there probably 10 - 15 minutes before he came in. He was probably in his mid 50s, tall maybe 6'1 or 6'2. Fit, military haircut. He had another man with him in black fatigues and a beret with a crest on it. Called him Sergeant. I don't really know my military...stuff but I could probably draw the crest and his badges."

 "We'll get you to do that later, you just keep doing what you're doing right now." Fury encouraged.

 "Right, well my point is, he's pretending to be military, that he's a good guy, you know? Which is a theory backed up by all the monologuing he did."

 "God I love when they monologue" said Fury, "Lay it on us Lewis, what's he looking for."

 And she found she was warming to the subject, far easier to analyse his intentions than describe his actions. And she was _trained_ for this stuff. Analysing political intentions was pretty much her freaking wheelhouse. 

"He's got a revolutionary mindset, very John Locke, you know, it’s the responsibility of man to rise up against a government that no longer acts for the interests of the people. He thinks our government is no longer responsible to the electorate and he blames it on the Avengers. He thinks that since it’s a government controlled program, that it’s enforcing government agendas. So the big evil plan is to take out the Avengers and then challenge the government. Based on the militarism and some severe anger management and control issues, I'm going to take a guess that ‘challenge’ means 'overthrow and put myself in charge.'"

 "A reasonable leap Lewis," Fury almost cracked a smile. "Any pontificating on how he was going to accomplish this?"

 "Not much really," she said "Just about how he was looking to put Thor out of the picture because that's what...that's why..." she stuttered, getting to the part she didn't want to talk about.

 "How was he planning to take out Thor," said Fury, firmly directing her back on track "he have a god of his own?"

 Darcy cracked a little smile "Nothing that interesting. He was working on locking down the bi-frost. My guess would be just wait for Thor to take a trip home and lock the door."

 Fury nodded "and nothing about the others?"

 "Nothing specific,” she said, "although now that I think about it, he did mention all of the Avengers other than Hawkeye and the Black Widow, so he may not consider them as much of a threat."

 Clint looked offended, which she though was kind of hilarious, but the guy saved her life, the least she could do was fluff his ego a bit.

 "Which is probably going to be one of those 'last mistakes he'll ever make' sort of things. But I guess he's working on targeted ways to get at the other Avengers."

 "And what about this guy, you get a name? Anything you can tell us other than military?"

 "No name. I started thinking of him as General Shakespeare though," she said "guy liked to talk" even some of the suits cracked a smile.

 "I mean he clearly believes what he's doing. He's not, you know, well balanced, but he's not irrational either. He's acting with purpose." she couldn't supress a shudder "I'd go with disgruntled former military, you know someone who feels they've been screwed by the government, or the Avengers or both. And also possibly by Tony Stark personally, but it's also totally possible that he has just seen interviews."

 She paused. "Likes to pretend he's got manners too. He kept calling me 'Miss Lewis' even when he was..."

 "Okay," Fury broke in "that's okay. And what did he want from you specifically?"

 "I didn't know at first" she said, her volume dropping a bit, because this was less like a political theory class. "He kept asking about the unwritten part of Jane's equations, and I knew nothing about the math. But I guess from your point of view the more important part is that he clearly had all but that last dash of her research, which I assume is pretty classified."

 "That is a concern.” said Fury, looking at one of the suits to his left, who made a note. "You didn't have what he was looking for then?" Fury asked.

 "I did actually," she was beginning to shake, she sat on her right hand to keep it still. "I just didn't realise until just before Agent Barton showed up.” She took a deep breath.  "He was looking for something a bit more general to plot out the uh....dimensional triangulation? I was there when Jane realised it..."

 Fury interrupted her "That's good enough. We want to contain this information tightly, not give General Shakespeare any more targets." Fury seemed to relish giving the villain such a ridiculous moniker.

 "Right, well I guess the point is that it's more of a general idea than specific math. I would guess his team of evil scientists is really close and could do what they need to do really quickly if they had the info."

 "What makes you think he's got a team?" asked a suit.

 "Well, he's got a Sergeant" said Darcy, giving the suit a look. The suit still looked confused. "Who has to be sergeant over other people? Seems silly to create a uniform and rank for only one guy...." still nothing "which means it’s a pretty big organisation who probably has at least one science minion?" she finally got a look of understanding. Fury looked at her appraisingly, Clint was grinning at her like somehow _he_ was the smart one.

"You get that Reynolds?" said Fury, in a tone that made her very glad she was not Reynolds. "Yes sir," came the very quiet response.

 "Alright Lewis, I have to ask a few things that you're not going to like."

 She nodded.

 "Everybody here has seen your medical file, we know what you went through and you don't need to tell us about that."

 "Okay" whispered Darcy thankfully

 "Who was it? Was it General Shakespeare or the Sergeant"

"The Sergeant" she answered. She could feel the bile rising.

 "Always?"

 "No" said Darcy "sometimes the General...he hit me...not with...just with his hands, and right at the end he..." she was feeling dizzy and she dropped her head into her arms on the table. Clint jumped in.

 "I observed him kick over the chair she was tied to and kick her several times in the rib and face." His voice was cool and professional, but she thought she could hear the strain of it.

 "Okay" said Fury, he looked around the room "Anyone have anything else?"

There was nothing but the hushed sound of pens against paper.

"That's all for now, then.” Said Fury, “Barton, get her back to recovery. And," he turned to the suits "now that Lewis has basically done your analysis for you, I want a report on my desk first thing tomorrow."

 Darcy didn't watch them leave. Clint came to crouch beside her.

 "You did great kid" he said, placing an arm around her shoulders "you gonna hurl?"

 Darcy managed a weak laugh. "No I am not going to vomit on you Clint."

 "Well that's a plus" he said brightly. "Now let’s go tell everyone how you totally owned a room full of analysts."

Nurse Cheryl was so pleased, she got an extra helping of chocolate pudding and a little extra of the good drugs.

+

+

Darcy faded into consciousness. She had slept very little throughout the night, constantly waking from horrible dreams that she couldn’t recall. She had passed into something more like a coma than sleep around 4am. It couldn’t be much past 5 now, but she didn’t open her eyes, because there were voices in the room.

“It’s not like that at all. She’s just so…she’s such a good kid you know? She didn’t deserve any of this and she’s taking it better than anyone could have guessed. I’m rooting for her, I guess.”  Clint.

There was a subtle sort of “mmmhhm?” 

“Look Tash, as much as you think I am only capable of being a lecherous old man, I am not looking to _pick her up_.” He sounded kind of angry.

Natasha. Clint was having an argument with the Black Widow about her. About whether he was trying to _pick her up_. Darcy filed that away, there were some sour grapes going on in _that_ little duo.

“I just. I want to protect her, okay? She could use a little bit of security in her life right now, and I’m happy to provide it. Is that enough _emotion_ for you today Nat? “

“Yes Clint, that will do.” But her voice sounds softer now. There was a tense silence.

“There is something about her, isn’t there?” said Natasha thoughtfully. And after a moment. “I’ll keep an eye on your little _sestrenka_ for you Barton.” Darcy hears the door open and close.

Clint sighs heavily and settled into the chair beside the bed.

“So,” said Darcy, blinking sleepily up at Clint. “You’re not trying to _pick me up?_ ”

He looked so flustered that she let the moment drag out for a while because, you know, laughs were a bit few and far between at 5am in a hospital bed.

“Relax cowboy,” she said “Not looking to _pick you up_ either” she did her best to imitate his emphatic tone. “Besides, there’d be no mystery left. You’ve already seen me half naked and sweaty and neither of us enjoyed it much.”

“Darcy Lewis, you are going to give me a heart attack one of these days” but he grinned at her. “So you were listening.” He says, it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” she said “for super spies, it was awfully unsneaky.”

“We all have bad days,” said Clint running a hand through his hair. “We fight a lot. She found me here; I’m not going to run away from her.” He stated it simply.

“Why Clint Barton,” she said, intrigued. “Are you _carrying on_ with the Black Widow?”

He sat there in silence, not looking at her.

“Well now you have to unburden your girl problems on me” she said matter of factly

“And why would that be?” he looked highly skeptical.

“Because I would really like to be distracted from my own problems.” The fact that it was convenient didn’t make it any less true, and Clint knew it.

“There is _nothing_ going on between me and Natasha.” He said. Darcy didn’t even _sort of_ believe him, but a lot of that was probably because super spy secret romance was a lot more interesting than nothing going on.

“I used to be fat” she blurted out. He looked at her like she had grown a second nose or something.

“What?”

“I used to be fat.” Said Darcy, “I went through a _really_ awkward phase at the end of high school. My self-esteem has never really fully gotten over that time in my life, even though I pulled my shit together in college. It’s not something that I tell anyone _ever_. And I will give you a picture. Mutually assured destruction. You don’t tell anyone about that, I won’t tell anyone about how you _love_ the Black Widow.”

He looked at her appraisingly. And after a moment “I don’t think it can possibly be that bad, you know you’re…I mean not that I’m _looking_ , but you’re really…ahh. Save me here Lewis.”

She rolled her eyes, “Barton, don’t ever try to compliment my _figure_ again. It’s just weird.”

“Agreed” he said firmly.

“So, Natasha?” she prompted.

“Nope.” He responded amiably.

 “So what you’re saying” said Darcy, “in your taciturn manly way is that you are hopelessly in love with the Black Widow?”

He glared at her.

“Okay, okay,” she said through a yawn that _really_ hurt her bruised and swollen face. “But I’m still going to go on believing that the Black Widow was momentarily _jealous_ of me.”

“You just keep believing kid,” said Clint with a grin, reaching over to tuck her blankets in. “I’ll be back later on with an update for you. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

She was pretty sure Nurse Cheryl had turned up her medication on the sly, because she felt herself drifting and all she gave Clint was a sleepy “mmpphhh” before he was gone.


	3. Slammed into a Brick Wall

"It was in the early morning hours   
When I fell into a phone call   
Believing I had supernatural powers   
I slammed into a brick wall   
I said hey, is this my problem?   
Is this my fault?   
If that's the way it's going to be   
I'm going to call the whole thing to a halt."

 - Paul Simon (Gumboots)

 

She managed another few hours of restless sleep before she gave in and turned on the TV, clicking through the truly outrageous channel selection until she found a marathon of an old sitcom. 

It was about 10:00 when her visitors arrived. Clint walked in with a tall, angular brunette in an impeccably pressed uniform.

“Darcy,” he greeted her with a grin. “This is Maria Hill. She’s the Chief Handler for the Avengers and she’s in charge of the man hunt for the General.”

“Pleased to meet you Lewis” Hill said, approaching the bed and shaking her hand. Darcy thought there was probably a memo floating around about not calling her Miss Lewis, because Hill totally seemed like the manners type. She made a mental note to thank Clint for it later. “I’m here to give you an update on our progress.”

“What happened to Coulson?” she asked. Because last time she had been around all this in New Mexico, he was the head of all the crazy super people stuff.

There was a deep and uncomfortable pause.

“He didn’t make it through the attack on the city last year,” said Clint, looking resolutely out the window.

“Oh,” said Darcy softly, “I’m so sorry.” And she _was_. Because while she had never spent much time with the man that didn’t involve following his orders, he had really taken care of their operation and had been a huge part of bringing Thor back.

Clint cleared his throat, “He was a good man,” he said, “And Hill is doing a good job of stepping into some very big shoes.”

Hill shot him a grateful glance that moved a few things into place for Darcy about how they worked together and why Hill was the right person for the job. She continued.

“Using your initial intel plus what we gathered once we moved on the location, we’ve discovered that the network operated by the General is extensive and multilayered, as you suspected.”

Darcy couldn’t help but feel a little pleased. It was short lived.

“While we don’t know much yet, it is clear that the network is still active and still moving towards their end game. This means that you are still a target, particularly because your profile of the General indicates a vindictive personality.”

She felt dizzy, and there was a tinny ringing in her ears. Clint reached out and grabbed her hand.

“It’s okay Darcy, we’re not going to let anything happen to you. It just means that we get to keep you around for a little while until we hunt this asshole down, okay?” He smiled reassuringly at her.

Hill nodded, “We are working on pinpointing all relevant locations in his network, tasking some surveillance, and eventually conducting some recon. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Darcy squeaked.

“Your initial analysis has proved highly accurate, you have the best knowledge of the target, and your background is highly applicable to the current task. Essentially, we want you to sit in with our analysts on this project. We’ll feed you information as it comes in, you help us draw conclusions and answer questions as best you can.”

Purpose of any kind sounded pretty good to Darcy right now, and the sort of purpose that could lead to tracking this guy down and bringing this whole thing to an end sounded even better. Sitting around getting lost in nightmares and memories was not exactly proving very fun.

“Yeah, I can do that,” she said firmly. Clint sent Hill a bit of an ‘I told you so’ grin, which she ignored completely.

“Excellent.” She said with a crisp smile, and began rattling off instructions. “Typically in such a situation we’d send you to a safe house and give you a cover, but because we need you here, we’ll put you up in the city. We’ve already contacted your parents and work through your e-mail server indicating that an old friend had become very ill. I’ve got the details of the cover here.” She set down an intimidating stack of paper, “along with your first set of data for analysis and the details for our standard asset lodging agreement. Study the cover and we’ll set up secure calls with your parents and employer tomorrow. Your personal items have been collected and brought here. I’m sure your questions will be answered by your briefing package.” There was a brief, somewhat exasperated pause. “I also understand that Agent Barton has alternate living arrangement options for you, should you wish. Have a nice day.”

Darcy took a deep breath, feeling like a whirlwind had left the room.

“Jeez,” she exclaimed, “she is kind of terrifying.”

“Almost as good with a gun as she is with paperwork and orders. Not much for warm fuzzies, but number one at keeping our asses in line,” said Clint with a grin.

“So what about the alternate living arrangements?” she asked.

Clint had a mildly terrifying look in his eye, “the standard SHIELD lodgings are basically this, but without good cable.”

Darcy looked around the spartan hospital room and grimaced.

“Plus it’s a ghost town because no one lives here if they can help it. So there’s no way I’m letting you sit around this dump by yourself till we catch this guy.” He paused dramatically.  “Darcy Lewis, what do you say to moving into the Avengers suite at Stark Towers?”

+

+

The phone call to her boss was surprisingly easy. He seemed to have bought the idea that she had run off to New York because of a sick friend, and then stayed because she received a job offer she couldn’t refuse. There was lots of very polite back and forth about how she was incredibly sorry to have caused so much difficulty, and how he was sorry to lose her, but all in all, it went far better than she had expected. She held out hope that her career might still be salvageable after all this.

The call to her parents was much harder. They completely understood why she would run off to New York to see Jane if she was very ill (which was the story Hill had provided her with), but they could not understand why she had left her job and why she wasn’t coming out to Montana for the 4th of July anymore.

 Darcy’s parents, in her own opinion, were exceptional people. They were smart, hardworking, and loyal and they were the best parents she could possibly imagine. They had never understood how they had raised a city girl, despite their best efforts to the contrary, and they knew they hadn’t raised the sort of child to avoid her parents. They were worried. They knew something wasn’t quite right. Her dad even went so far as to pick up the other line and threaten to fly out there and fetch her, or pay for her ticket if it was about the money.

She ended up telling them that it was about a job, very exciting, but she couldn’t say much about it. She could hear that they didn’t like the secrecy and weren’t convinced by her falsely chipper tone. But there was no way she was bringing her parents into this. Even if what she wanted to do was sob, tell her dad to come get her, and let her mother stroke her hair and fix her chicken soup like she had when she was a child.

About a week and a half after she arrived, once Nurse Cheryl had given her the okay, Darcy found herself standing in the lobby of Stark towers in hospital scrubs facing a terrifyingly well-manicured Pepper Potts who was holding out a set of keys and a key card.

“Welcome to Stark Towers Darcy,” she said with a warm smile. “Always nice to add some female presence to the tower. We’ve been hopelessly outnumbered without you.”

“Ms. Potts,” Darcy said, trying to maintain her dignity in what were essentially bright blue pajama pants, “I really appreciate you letting me stay.”

“Nonsense,” interrupted Pepper, “we’ve got more than enough room, and really it was all Clint’s doing.”

Later,  Clint recounted to her his discussion with Tony on the living arrangements.

_“Stark, a moment?”_

_“What’s the word, hummingbird?”_

_“You know that kid, Foster’s assistant, recently kidnapped?”_

_“You mean your new pet project? I’ve heard rumors.”_

_“They’re planning to stick her in SHIELD lodgings.”_

_“Hasn’t that kid already suffered enough?”_

_“Exactly, I want to offer her a room here.”_

_“You want me to start taking in strays now?”_

_“Pretty girl, great rack, by all accounts makes the best lasagne this side of the Atlantic.”_

_“She can have_ my _room if she wants it.”_

It was one of the many things that made it quickly clear to her that Tony Stark would always end up doing the right thing, but it was far easier if you gave him a bad reason to do it.

Pepper only had time to introduce her to Jarvis before she apologetically ran off to run the world in towering Laboutins.

And of course Tony Stark had a robot butler. Why was she even a little bit surprised?

Jarvis led her on a brisk and efficient tour of the suite, including a common area with a world class entertainment system, a kitchen that could make a grown chef weep, and a fireman’s pole running down the center of a spiral staircase in the west corner.

“Hey Jarvis” asked Darcy, peering up and down the staircase curiously.

“Yes Miss Darcy,” the disembodied voice queried politely

“Does Tony Stark have a batcave?”

“Mr. Stark’s in-house workshop is housed two floors below you, immediately below the living quarters of the team member of the Avengers Initiative. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts occupy the penthouse floors above you.” There was a dry pause. “Mr. Stark’s preferred mode of access to his workshop is the central pole you see in front of you. However, he currently has no mechanism allowing him to arrive in his lab fully outfitted.”

Tony Stark had a sarcastic robot butler. Awesome.

Jarvis politely directed her to the hallway leading away from the common area.

“To your left you will find a powder room. The door on the right is a currently unoccupied suite. If you’ll just proceed down the hall, you will find your door, which you can access with your key card. Ms. Potts felt that a centrally located suite would be preferable while you recover. However, should you ever wish to relocate, do not hesitate to ask.”

Darcy nodded politely, assuming Jarvis was probably always watching.

She keyed open the door and walked in.

It was her apartment, but not at all.

Her old white leather couch and overstuffed chair sat in the sitting area, but they were now flanked by tasteful end tables and high end lighting fixtures. Her old shag rug was there, but it sat on polished hardwood floors. Instead of her old CRT TV, her furniture faced a gas fireplace and a truly insane flat screen. Her flea market finds and vintage posters had been professionally framed and displayed. Her comic collection was neatly housed in a UV protected case.

Everywhere, bits and pieces of her life were scattered and unrecognisable.

She found her outerwear and shoes cleaned and neatly slotted into a closet by the door. Her kitchen supplies carefully put away and supplemented by top of the line appliances in the small kitchenette, which, why would you need it with the giant kitchen down the hall? The fridge was even stocked with basics and instructions for ordering groceries were stuck to the fridge with her own cheerful magnets made from old pins and buttons.

All her cosmetics and linens were carefully organised in the bathroom next to the marble countertops and enormous soaker tub. Her grandmother’s vanity and her mother’s hope chest sat in the bedroom near a bed about half the size of her old apartment. Her clothes hung neatly in the closet, and she gratefully exchanged the hospital scrubs she had arrived in for a comfortable wrap dress.

“This is insane” she whispered to herself as she sat on the bed, which incidentally hugged her like a cloud. “How does Tony do all this?”

Jarvis gently spoke up. “Playing open recording dated August 9th, 2011.” A brash voice she recognised as Tony’s filled the room.

  _“No way are the earth’s mightiest heroes coming back to SHIELD lodgings. They want us to play ball, we’re going to do it in style!”_

_“What exactly do you mean?” asked an apprehensive sounding Pepper._

_“Shield’s got to be giving us a living stipend, right?”_

_“Yes, Tony. If you had actually read the contract…”_

_“Great, give it to me and I’ll put these heroes up in the style I’m accustomed to.”_

_“What’s the catch Tony”_

_“I may be planning to put in a workshop when we renovate.”_

_There was a heavy feminine sigh._

_“and a bat pole!”_

Darcy smiled at the exchange. “Thanks Jarvis.”

“My pleasure, Miss Darcy.”

And then it was quiet. And Darcy started to feel a bit disoriented as she sat on her own quilted bedspread, looking out over the skyline of New York.

It was almost poetic in a maudlin sort of way. All her things, and she didn’t recognise them in this new setting.

She looked down at her hand, now in a flexible splint due to some crazy healing whammy that Nurse Cheryl has just called “Stark tech.” The bandages that still covered her back itched, her shoulder ached, her jaw was still bruised a fading yellowish purple.

All the same body parts, but she didn’t recognise herself.

And the city was big and empty, and nothing needed analysing today, and her only purpose was _to not get killed_ , and she was completely and terrifyingly alone.

And she cried; terrible, wracking sobs that engulfed her small frame as she clutched her stuffed rabbit, her one childhood toy that had survived. And she wished she could go home, wished that this tiny piece of knowledge she possessed combined with her general helplessness didn’t make her and everyone around her a target. She wished she could sleep without seeing the Sergeant and the General behind her eyes, without hearing the seconds of her life ticking away, and without the buzz of fluorescent lighting reverberating at the same frequency as the throbbing, endless agony.

After a while, she finally lay still, feeling empty, staring blankly at the ceiling. Jarvis interrupted the stillness softly.

“Miss Darcy,” she didn’t know how he had programmed empathy in, but she was beginning to think that Tony Stark was probably a pretty good guy. “Please allow me to ask the kitchens to send you a cup of tea, perhaps a light snack?”

“No,” her voice was thick and ragged, “no thanks Jarvis” but she latched on to part of his statement, because she couldn’t stand another minute of this emptiness.

“What do you mean kitchens Jarvis?” she asked, heading for the bathroom to wash her face.

“Stark Tower houses both a fine dining establishment and a café on the mezzanine level. The kitchens also provide for the residents of the Avengers suite and for Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts.”

Darcy was floored. She was going to have to stop being surprised by this stuff. “So no one here really cooks for themselves?” Her mother would be horrified.

“Not as a rule, Miss Darcy.”

“So why the many kitchens?”

“Just in case, I believe” said Jarvis with a sardonic lilt.

And Darcy had a plan.

“Jarvis, do you think they could send me up a list of ingredients?”

“Of course, Miss Darcy, if you will provide me a list of items and quantities, I will have it sent up right away.”

Darcy thought about this for a moment. “Who’s going to be home for dinner?” and as an afterthought, “and how much do superheroes eat?”

“Everyone,” said Jarvis dryly, “and quite a lot, if I’m not mistaken.”

+

+

Less than 15 minutes later, the internal dumb waiter arrived, packed full of supplies, and Darcy resolutely turned her focus to making enough lasagna to feed an army.

It was late afternoon when Jarvis notified her that Captain Rogers was on his way up.

The kitchen looked a bit like Italy might have exploded all over it. Tomato sauce (from _scratch_ Darcy, Lewis women don’t do _canned sauce_ ) was simmering on the stove and the smell of browned Italian sausage rose from a huge covered pot. Garlic, onion, mushrooms and herbs lay scattered across the central island, waiting for chopping.

Thankfully for her vanity, which, hey! One thing that was still intact and she was happy to take small victories, her face no longer looked puffy from crying and she had thought to put on an apron over her dress, because Captain Freaking America, her new roommate, was about to show up. She silently cursed Jane for not getting home first. It was totally unfair, but she did it anyways.

She tensed as she heard the elevator open, but took a steadying breath. “Just a normal guy” she kept repeating to herself, but it didn’t really work very well. She forced herself to smile brightly as the tallest, blondest, all American boy she had ever seen up close walked in.

“Hi,” she said, raising her wooden spoon in greeting, “you must be Captain Rogers.”

He smiled a little sheepishly at her, “It’s just Steve around here.” He said. She gave him a mock salute, unabashedly flicking tomato sauce all over the counter.

“Darcy, right?” he said with a grin. “Pleasure to meet you.” Darcy hastily put down the spoon to shake the hand he extended.

“You too Steve,” she said, and genuinely meant it. His presence was a lot calmer and more casual than you’d expect. “It’s great of you all to let me intrude for a while.”

“No one who cooks is ever intruding,” he said, walking over to the stove, “Is that lasagna?” he reached over and lifted the lid on the pot holding the pre-cooked meat. On instinct, she reached out and smacked his hand away. Oh well, might as well roll with it.

“You’ll ruin your appetite.” She said, in her best impression of her mother’s voice.

“I hardly think so,” Steve said with a grin, “But put me to work, Chef Lewis, how can I help?”

“You are more than welcome to be on onion chopping duty” said Darcy, “If you think you can take it?” she gestured challengingly at the pile of onions.

“Yes Ma’am,” he agreed quickly and set to work. She was somewhat amused to note that even superheroes teared up while slicing onions. She was very unsurprised to see that he was a trooper about it and a very efficient chopper.

“So not that I’m complaining” Steve commented as he sliced, “but you know you didn’t need to do this right?”

Darcy paused, a twinge of panic striking her. Steve looked at her sharply, reminding her of the border collies that were an ever present part of her life growing up. That focused concern, like you are right at the center of the world and if you have a problem they want to _do_ something. It was very comforting. She smiled, if a bit thinly.

“I need to keep busy.”

Steve nodded once. “I get it.” He said with a sad smile, “My mother always said there wasn’t much that couldn’t be cured by a solid day of hard work.”

Darcy surprised herself by letting out a snort of laughter. “That’s _exactly_ what my Mom always says, except she replaces “work” with “shovelling manure.”

“Wise woman,” said Steve with a grin, “You grew up on a farm?”

“Horse ranch,” said Darcy, “We raised them, trained them, and mostly sold them. Mom used to compete when she was younger, but I never got into it.”

“Whereabouts?” Steve started peeling garlic.

“Middle of nowhere, Montana” she tossed the onions into a pan to caramelize.

“I always wished I had grown up in the country,” said Steve, “You must be a pretty good rider then?”

“I’m pretty sure I was on a horse before I could walk,” she said with a fond smile, “Of course, as soon as I could walk, I learned how to shovel stalls.”

“I hear it builds character,” said Steve with a silly grin.

So she told him about her life growing up on the ranch, and he told her about growing up in 1930s New York, and somewhere along the way, between building the layers of lasagna, and him being more interested in her comic collection than her hostage experience, and her being more interested in how they used to keep the waist of their pants up so high in the 40s (suspenders, it turned out) than the fact that he was a super hero, he sort of stopped being Captain America, and became just Steve for her. And Steve was pretty cool.

When Thor and Jane arrived, they were sitting in the tidied kitchen, a glass of wine in hand (Steve was trying to improve his palate at Natasha’s insistence) and the lasagnas in the oven, competing over who had been the clumsier child.

“Darcy!” Thor always seemed to fill the room every time he entered it. “I’m so pleased you have joined us!”

Jane beamed at her, then paused, and sniffed the air.

“Darcy…” she looked like it might be Christmas, “are you making lasagna?”

“Yes, yes I am,” said Darcy with a smile. She was always shocked at how much Jane could eat for such a tiny woman. She had once eaten an entire dish of Darcy’s lasagne over the course of a day and a half. It was impressive.

“Oh man, you guys don’t even know how excited you should be right now.” Jane exclaimed.

“Well, I owe you all about three million lasagnas, so I thought I should get started.”

“Darcy,” said Thor in a gentle voice, “you owe us nothing. I am only sorry I could not come for you myself. You have bested me with my own weapon, you are Jane’s most loyal friend, and you have earned my allegiance.”

It was quite a heartfelt speech, and Darcy felt a little misty over it. If Steve was a border collie, Thor was 100% golden retriever, all big eyes and sincere emotion.

She really needed to stop comparing super heroes to dogs.

“Bested you with your own weapon?” Steve looked intrigued. “No offence Darcy, but I have a really hard time believing you can lift his hammer…”

“Mew mew? No way, I tasered him in New Mexico.” Said Darcy.

“The hand held lightening was fierce in my mortal form,” said Thor, somewhat defensively.

Steve laughed so hard that Thor lobbed an apple at his head, which Steve promptly caught and flung back.

Jane rolled her eyes as they descended into a game of catch that seemed to be based around attempting a throw that would force the other to fly through the windows or into the TV.

“I wonder if SHIELD should know that earth’s mightiest heroes are a bunch of children” Jane said rather fondly, as Thor crashed into the floor with an earth shattering thud, but came up holding the apple in his hand proudly.

“Oh they are aware,” Natasha walked in, observing Thor and Steve with dry amusement, “They brought Tony on board, didn’t they?”

Clint was following her. “Darcy!” he exclaimed “you’re finally here!” He reached out and plucked the apple Steve had whipped at his head out of the air without looking. “At least one person around here will have my back.”

“I don’t know,” said Darcy, in mock scepticism, “Steve tells me you cheat, and who am I to stand against Captain America?”

“Harsh, Lewis,” said Clint with a grin, sending the poor bruised apple to land neatly on top of a light fixture, out of reach. “I’m hurt that you would accuse me of such a thing.”

Thor’s booming laugh and the warmth that these people clearly felt for each other filled her for a moment, pushing back the emptiness that lurked inside, if only for a little while.

At that point, Jarvis piped up. “Miss Darcy, I believe your culinary masterpiece is ready to consume.”

“He’s never that nice to me,” said Clint, but it didn’t stop him from making a bee line to the table.

Three and a half out of four lasagnas later (of which Darcy had only picked at one small piece), she was thinking that Jarvis totally undersold their ability to eat. They sat in the living area, a movie half-heartedly playing, drowned out by conversation. Pepper came down to join them, somehow still looking polished in loose pants and bare feet.

It was clear to Darcy that they were all happy to have her, and she tried her best to keep up with the little mini celebration as more bottles of wine were opened and the conversation flowed around her, but it was an effort. The harder she tried to maintain her façade, to pretend that everything was okay, to hang a shell of normalcy around herself, the more hollow she felt inside. And the alcohol, rather than cheering her, pushed her just a bit farther away from lucidity, letting her nightmares creep up under her skin.

Finally, she couldn’t do it anymore. She stood abruptly, drawing the attention of the room.

“Pepper, is Tony around somewhere? I’d like to say thanks before I head for bed.” He smile was thin and didn’t seem to alleviate the concern she saw on the faces around her.

“Sure, he’s down in his workshop.” She said, looking at her cautiously, “go ahead and interrupt him.”

Darcy walked down the stairs and through the glass door Jarvis opened for her. Tony looked up immediately.

“New girl,” he greeted her, “hold this.”

He handed her some sort of bizarre jointed appendage connected to a console the he seemed to be soldering to something. All of a sudden, the robot arm started to twitch and then lifted away from her hand before neatly folding itself up.

“I might be a genius,” Tony said, mostly to himself, so she didn’t answer. He stood and brushed off his hands.

“Hi,” she said finally, “I’m Darcy.”

“Right,” he said, “you settled in alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, “This place is incredible. I just wanted to th…”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Apparently I’m a superhero now,” he said without a trace of modesty, “I help people,” he said in a grandiose tone, “It’s what I do.”

Darcy got the feeling that he wasn’t very good at accepting praise for being a nice guy, so she was happy to help him out. “Pepper tells us that you also answer the door naked when your CFO and auditor come by. Is that also on the list of ‘things that you do?’”

“Very special service,” he said breezily, but his eyes on her had shifted from dismissive to appraising. “And what is it that _you_ do,” he asked with a leer.

“Get kidnapped and shack up with heroes, apparently,” she said with as much bravado as she could muster. Tony cracked a grin.

“You know,” he said as he put away his tools, “After my hostage situation, I almost bankrupted my company and became Iron Man. I highly recommend it.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said dryly as she followed him to the door. And when he held it open for her with a little bow and an obsequious “after you, Miss Lewis,” she didn’t even flinch.

+

+

She had hoped a few glasses of wine would help her sleep. And it did, after a fashion. She was just unable to wake up from her nightmares. So the next morning, although she had slept, she felt ragged and unrested, the prospect of a morning alone looming in front of her like a storm cloud on the horizon.

So when Jane knocked on her door and asked her what she wanted for breakfast, she asked if she could come and hang out with her in her lab, make herself useful until the analyst meeting she had been called to that afternoon.

She almost immediately became wary of that decision as Jane lit up. “Seriously? Because the old hags in finance keep yelling at me about some forms they want and I keep trying to tell that that I don’t _have_ any forms and all my papers and stuff are a _mess_.”

Jane was not exaggerating, even a little bit. As Jane leaned over some sort of machine that was sending little blue sparks into what looked like a tiny bowl of hair gel (it probably wasn’t), Darcy looked with despair at the mish mash of paper, books, and folders covering most of the available horizontal surfaces in Jane’s lab.

As she started sorting, she came across a folder labeled “finance” and decided that that was probably a good place to start. The forms were relatively simple; they just wanted an accounting for used supplies and equipment breakage. Darcy was pretty sure all that information would be in Jane’s lab reports anyways. After seeking directions, she headed up to finance to clear up the problem.

The minute she knocked on the door of the finance office and saw three almost identical sour faces topped with matching mathematically precise top knots turn to her with sharp, judgmental eyes, a striking sense memory of visiting her great aunt Mildred flashed through her head, and she knew exactly how to deal with them.

She thanked her lucky stars that she had dressed conservatively and office appropriate in preparation for her meeting in the afternoon.

“Ms. Robertson,” she crisply approached the desk of the oldest woman, “I am Darcy Lewis. I have been sent up to correct the deficiencies in Dr. Jane Foster’s finance and requisition forms.”

“Foster,” the woman hissed, “If I have to fill out her forms _one more time_ …”

Darcy was glad normal people couldn’t actually breathe fire.

“Poor Dr. Foster is a product of the youth of our generation.” Darcy said primly, “If you ask me, it all started going downhill when they banned the strap.” She wondered it that was a bit over the top, but the three women nodded in agreement. She went on, “My dear mama raised me to respect the rules, Ms. Robertson, so if you’ll instruct me, I will make sure these forms are done right going forward.”

She left with a pocket full of scotch mints, an offer to set her up with a nice young man, and the information she needed.

Darcy felt like she had barely scratched the surface of the organisational disaster that was Jane’s lab, let alone the mess that was the _other_ side of the lab used by another shield scientist, by the time her meeting rolled around. She picked half-heartedly at the muffin Jane had shoved at her on her way out, after finding she hadn’t ever actually eaten lunch. It took her a little while to find the board room, ditching the half eaten muffin on the way in. The room was full of milling analysts, waiting for the meeting to start. She found a free seat, set the information she had been given and her notes on the table, and waited nervously.

Fury came in shortly after, and everyone immediately shut up and got to business. Eye patch or not, that man knew how to command respect.

“Alright people,” he said, “let’s keep this efficient. Chase, what have you got on locations?”

“We’ve ID’d at least 12 probable points of operation, and located two so far. Initial long distance observation indicates high security but low physical presence. They seem to be technical facilities.”

“Thoughts as to why the operation is so split up?” Silence, Darcy looked around before awkwardly raising her hand.

“Lewis?” Fury raised an eyebrow at her.

“I thought it might have to do with his anti-avenger plan, especially if they are technical facilities. I mean, it’s not as if any of the other Avengers really have a magical bridge that can keep them out of the action. His plan for taking out the others must be more practical or weapons based, right?” she spoke uncertainly, but Fury looked satisfied and nodded. “So it would make sense to keep the number of people who know about _all_ his weapon planning limited by splitting them up, maybe?”

“Good,” Fury said without expression, “let’s proceed with the theory that the smaller technical locations are weapons development. We are still looking for the extent and training of his force though, they can’t all be scientists.”

A group of analysts across the table started discussing tactic for tracking down the remaining locations and closer surveillance ops for the two they had found.

Darcy mostly listened for the rest of the meeting, answering a few direct questions, but otherwise trying to absorb the details of the operation and how shield went about planning it. She left with another pile of paper and a promise of more where that came from as it came in. And it felt good to be doing something worthwhile.

+

+

She was alright most days now. She spent a lot of her days in the lab dealing with Jane's paperwork and trying to keep the place organised. She often looked longingly over at the other side. Dr. Banner, apparently Jane's lab buddy, was out doing science somewhere else, which meant that Darcy had put his scattered lab desk in order, neatly filed and labelled everything and no one had messed it up again. It was very satisfying.

Jane, she was pretty sure, wasn't even aware that there was a filing system and just thought Darcy was some sort of lab whisperer who could just magically find things.

It wasn't really full time work, but between putting Jane’s lab in order, playing around with spreadsheets and her minimal coding skills to try to keep things running for Jane if / when she left, and keeping Jane in pop tarts and coffee, it passed the days.

She started carving out a life for herself. She worked hard to keep on top of all of the information coming in on the General. The two bases they initially found were being investigated, and most of the equipment seemed to be related to electromagnetic fields, which no one could really figure out the use for. They had located a few more outposts, one of which had been abandoned, and engineering was dismantling everything they had found, trying to figure out what the General was planning. There was still no sign of the General himself or where he was hiding his military forces.

Life at Stark Tower fell into some semblance of pattern.

Steve had started coming to her each night with a list of pop culture references he had not understood over the day.

He was also making his way through her comic collection, because Darcy was of the firm opinion that they should be read, not just displayed. It turned out that Steve had had _no_ idea that there were comics about him spanning decades and, he was even more surprised to find, that there was a current series called “The Avengers” that Darcy had been meticulously collecting ever since she met and tasered Thor. Somehow, that little adventure had never showed up in the story line.  Talking to Steve about comics was better than any art class Darcy had ever taken. He was knowledgeable, an excellent teacher, and happy to debate the merits of various artists, even at 4am when he sometimes found her awake in the living room.

The sleeping habits of the Avengers were often bizarre, which suited Darcy fine because she wasn’t doing all that much of it herself. Steve just didn’t need as much sleep as the normal humans, Clint and Natasha were used to odd hours and cat naps and didn’t like to fall into steady patterns because it made it harder to adjust on a mission. Tony just didn’t sleep, so far as Darcy could tell.

He wasn’t as present as the others, because he and Pepper had their own space. But when Darcy couldn’t sleep, or when the suite was empty, he was always happy to let her sit on his work bench and pass him tools while he tried to offend her with his foulest jokes (no luck yet) and made increasingly incongruous suggestions about what she should do with her essentially forced vacation time.

When she wasn’t at the lab she actually spent most of her time with Jane and Clint, despite Tony’s suggestion that she should take up stripping and then retire when this whole thing blew over.

Having Jane back was really the biggest upside of this whole terrible experience. Having someone around who knew her so well and who she was so comfortable with gave her a sense of stability. And, in an ironic role reversal, Jane was the best at making sure she was eating, even if it wasn’t really enough.

Clint chose to express his concern by consistently beating her in every video game Tony owned (which was pretty much _all_ of them), but he was still a solid and reassuring presence. She was also aware that he was intensely watchful of her.

None of them were much for trying to talk to her about her experience, and that was okay with Darcy, because she didn’t want to talk about it, but Clint somehow always seemed to find her when she was at her lowest. He was never prying or overwhelming. Most of the time, he would just come to sit with her, telling her about his day or telling stories about old missions. Sometimes she cried, and he would put an arm around her and just let her. But mostly she just felt safer knowing he was there.

All of the people around her were doing their best to make sure she was taken care of, make sure she felt safe and supported, to make sure she knew they weren’t going to let anyone hurt her.

But it was Natasha who really started to make things better.

She knew she looked tired. She wasn't sleeping well, she wasn't eating well, and while her injuries had nearly healed, it was clear to everyone around her that the scars were lingering.

Natasha slipped into her room one Saturday morning at 8am. It would have been more of a barge on anyone else. Darcy was sitting up in bed anyways, but was still startled.

"You've been cleared by medical."

Darcy wasn't sure it if was a question, but she nodded anyways.

"Get dressed," said Natasha firmly "something comfortable."

And you just didn't say no to the Black Widow, so she pulled on leggings and a t-shirt and met Natasha in the hallway. Natasha didn't say a word, just started walking. Darcy followed her to the gym on the lower floor. It was cleared of equipment other than a small square of mats.

Natasha walked around to the other side and faced her over it.

"Step on the mat" she did.

"Something terrible happened to you" Natasha said without preamble, Darcy blanched. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

"Someone wanted something from you and he was bigger, stronger, and better prepared. He hurt you, and you had no control." she paused. Darcy felt nauseous, but she nodded.

"Say it."

"He hurt me and I had no control.” Her voice was chocked by rising tears.

 "You didn't give him what he wanted" she paused again.

 "I didn't give him what he wanted.” Her voice was a little clearer. Because _damn right_ she didn’t.

 She nodded in satisfaction. "Then why are you letting him win now?" she asked. It wasn't a challenge; it was a question and Darcy thought about it.

 "Because I'm still afraid, I still can't control anything." It seemed to be honest enough for the purpose. Natasha nodded.

 "You've been hurt worse than most people will ever be hurt, and word is you mouthed off the whole time, why?" She went on.

 "Because my brain responds really sarcastically to stress?" she swore a corner of Natasha's mouth turned up.

"An aggressive adrenal response can be an excellent quality," she said "but why did you feel the need to talk back, to engage with him." Natasha’s green eyes were looking directly at her with an unwavering and reassuringly steady gaze.

 "Because I wasn't going to let that asshole take anything more away from me.” she was surprised at her own vehemence.

 "Good" said Natasha. "So stop letting him."

Darcy almost rocked back on her heels from the force of it.  "How?"

 "First, you stop letting yourself be afraid of the pain. Let it make you stronger."

 Darcy looked skeptical. But Natasha was on fire, in her element.

 "If I said I was going to punch you in the face, would that worry you?"

 "No," said Darcy, almost surprised at her response. "Well, maybe if it was you...."

 Natasha raised an amused eyebrow. "Once you know you can handle pain, that you will get through it, it becomes less of a factor. You don't need to take it into account when you make decisions. But that's not the hard part, that's just a shift in perspective."

"What's the hard part?" Darcy asked warily.

 "Control" she said simply "you've been pulled into this life, and a panic button or mace isn't going to put you in control of it. It just leaves you completely dependent on others, and that is the thing that is grinding you down." Natasha looked like this wasn't a new concept to her.

"You can't control other people, but you can control how you deal with them and how you react to situations they create. So we'll start with some basic defence, common weapons, and you'll get in shape. One of the trainers at Shield will set you up with a running program. The farther and faster you can run, the better." she gave Darcy an appraising look, "and you need to start eating again. A body like yours is a weapon and you should use it."

 Darcy felt like a weight had fallen away from her. She looked a week in the future and saw things she could achieve and _progress_ and it felt good.

 “Natasha, I..." she couldn't find any word to express the gift the other woman had just given her. But Natasha, like always, already knew.

"You're in Clint's circle." she said simply "which means you're in mine." She took a step towards Darcy with a bit of a manic glint in her eyes. "Now hit me."

+

+

Darcy stumbled into the common room a few hours later, exhausted and sore, but feeling better than she had been since she arrived.

Steve, Clint, Jane and Thor were just sitting down to brunch. They looked at her in surprise as she flopped into a chair, sweaty and smiling.

"Darce?" Jane looked at her warily "you okay?"

"Fantastic" she said, pouring herself a glass of juice.

“Where ya been, kid?” asked Clint, “We thought you were still sleeping."

 "Tasha is giving me ass kicking lessons" she said sunnily, enjoying the stunned reactions. "Any pancakes left?"

Thor passed her a giant stack, grinning widely around a mouthful.


	4. Two Substances Collide

"Overprescribed Under the mister

We had survived to Turn on the History Channel

And ask our esteemed panel Why are we alive?

And here's how they replied

You're what happens when two substances collide

And by all accounts you really should have died"

\- Andrew Bird (Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left)

 

It’s not as if getting regularly beat up by Tasha solved all her problems, she still had a hard time sleeping, but it was better if only because she was so tired at the end of the day. Her appetite had come back just in time to stop her curves from disappearing, and she could start to see changes in her body as she gained definition and strength.

She still felt out of control and lost at times, but whenever she felt that way, she knew how to fix it. She could pound it away on the trails behind the SHIELD facility. Darcy had never been a runner before, didn't seem to have much of a point to it. But when the Black Widow says run, you run.

She went to a trainer who gave her a schedule to start with, and from the very first time she felt her heart rate speed up, the first time she felt like stopping but didn’t, the first time she let the soothing repetitive rhythm carry her farther than she thought she could go, she was hooked.

This was something she could control, where she could see constant improvement. It didn't take long before she was working on pace, and not long after that that she started working on a half marathon distance.

She was running in the mornings, working in the lab or with the analysts during the day, and training with Natasha in the evenings. Half the time, Natasha would take her to the Shield firing range. She had become at least tolerably competent with small fire arms, and Clint was talking about getting her started on a bow. She was still working on being to actually stay upright when she was learning hand to hand with Natasha, but she was _really_ good at falling and taking a punch.

And while her sleep was still interrupted by nightmares and she still felt unreasonably wary of the world around her, she was also finding joy in her days again. And the proportion of good was starting to outweigh the bad.

+

+

It wasn’t long after she started running that Maria Hill came and found her one morning in Jane’s lab, rolling in like an incredibly efficient hurricane.

“Lewis,” Hill called sharply, “what are you doing here?”

“Uhhhh…” Darcy looked up from a large pile of highly classified reports that she was reviewing and collating information from. “Helping?”

“I hear that you have taken over Dr. Foster’s paperwork.”

“Well, I suppose in a manner of speaking….”

“And that finance actually likes this lab now.”

“They’re really not that bad once you….”

“And that you are still managing to churn out the best analysis we have on the General.”

“Yeah, yes I am definitely doing that.”

“Want a job?”

“A job? Seriously? Don’t you need, like, super spy training for that?”

“Are you or are you not currently undergoing personal combat training with the Black Widow.”

“Oh, right.”

“Analysts only need to pass basic firearms. Agent Romanoff already signed off on you. So. You want it?”

“Doing what exactly,” Darcy could hardly catch her breath, as was become pretty typical for her interactions with Maria Hill.

“Essentially what you are doing right now, but for significantly better pay. We’ll give you an office in the analyst pool, train you in our systems and procedures, give you a few other files to work on. And then you’ll spend half your day here keeping our top scientific talent in shape. Agreed?”

“Yes!”

And that was that, she was on the pay roll.

+

+

Usually Darcy found herself alone on the running paths in the morning. The same week she started her official SHIELD training for her shiny new job, she saw someone else's sweater sitting on the bench by the gate. She crossed paths with its owner somewhere in kilometre four, and gave him a little nod as they passed. It’s just common courtesy. You know the sort of 'I see you like running, I also enjoy running, I hope you enjoy your physical fitness as I enjoy mine’ thing.

She also noted that his hair flopped sort of endearingly as he ran with long, smooth strides and that his eyes crinkled up at the edges when he sort of smiled at her. But she didn’t give it too much thought.

Her day, it turned out, was almost entirely consumed with paperwork before she even got started on learning the computer system. She was already looking forward to getting back to half days in Jane's lab. Although, apparently Dr. Banner, who it turns out, also the freaking Hulk, was back.

Darcy was not sure how she felt about that, but comfortable wasn't the first adjective that came to mind.

+

+

Later that night, she flopped down on the couch beside Jane, who was watching some sort of space documentary. Seriously, did she not get enough science at work?

"Cute runner" she said without preamble,

"Cute runner?" Jane immediately turned the volume on the TV down. Not, you know, off. Because science. But still.

"Cute runner" Darcy confirmed "a little bit older, great hair, we nod / smiled when we crossed on the path"

"Ahh the nod/smile," said Jane sagely "must be love. You going to talk to him?"

"Naw" Darcy grabbed the remote and changed the channel (after pressing record on Jane's show, because she wasn't awful) "I think I'm just going to enjoy some morning eye candy. Eye candy will never force me to watch sports or forget my birthday."

"Eye candy will also never throw you up against a wall and ravish you" said Jane sensibly.

 "Hmmphhh"

+

+

Darcy was about ready to accuse Jane of finding a scientific formula to mess with the universe...more, when, just as she was approaching the end of her run the next morning, she saw Eye Candy at the gate, obviously just finished his run. And then he pulled up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and she could clearly see his abs. She lived in a house full of incredibly cut abs, but these were real person abs. Defined, but he still looked kind of comfortable.

Caught up in musculoskeletal comparisons, she caught her foot on some loose gravel and went down. Hard.

 "You alright?" Oh god. Eye Candy approached and squatted down beside her, his big brown eyes looking at her with concern.

 "Oh yeah, nothing wounded but my pride." She rolled her eyes at herself.

 His mouth quirked up in an almost smile, but the hand he offered her up was tentative and he pulled away immediately. Ooookay, Eye Candy apparently not interested in sweaty girls.

She took a step towards the gate and winced, looking down to see a bit of gravel rash down her right side.

"You're hurt" Eye Candy was looking at her with sincere concern. Of course, everyone around here was such a do-gooder.

"Just some road rash," she says "I've had worse." She smiled at him easily. He paused for a moment.

 "I should probably take a look at it."

 Darcy raised an eyebrow at him. It was really effective; she'd been training with the expert.

A blush crept up his neck "I'm a doctor" he said quickly.

Dr. Eye Candy.

"Yeah, Ok" couldn't hurt. She poked at her side experimentally. Didn't really feel like any of the gravel got lodged in there, but he was the expert.

He followed her to the bench as she sat down.

"If you could just...uh" Eye Candy gestured at her tank top a bit hesitantly.

Awkward Dr. Eye Candy.

She rolled up the side of her shirt and immediately felt intensely exposed as she heard him intake his breath sharply.

"That bad?" she questioned tightly.

 "Wha...oh no. You're right, just a bit of road rash. Looks pretty clean. I wouldn't even bandage it."

And then Awkward Dr. Eye Candy reached out, almost as if he didn't know he was doing it, and put his fingers against the angry pink scars on her back and Darcy tensed as if she had been shocked. His hand on her was too...intimate, terrible, too something. She jerked away abruptly and pulled down her shirt.

Awkward Dr. Eye Candy pulled his hand back sharply. "Sorry. I didn't mean to...make you uncomfortable"

"Don't" said Darcy, shortly "I don't want your pity."

He looked surprised "Pity? No. It's just...you really have seen worse than a bit of road rash haven't you?" his smile was tentative and conciliatory. It was an endearing look on him.

"Yeah," she said finally "It can be hard to find anyone particularly normal around here.”

"You're not wrong" he said with an odd twist to his smile. Darcy supposed that Awkward Dr. Eye Candy probably had his own demons. Point number 6 of 7 million on the list of why SHIELD employees were strictly eye candy only in Darcy's world.

"Well" said Darcy after a slightly awkward pause. "I'm just going to..." she gestured towards the door in.

"Right" Awkward Dr. Eye Candy took a step away from her as she stood. "I'll see you around."

He looked embarrassed in almost exactly the same way that this kid she used to babysit looked when he knew a time out was coming. And he seemed harmless enough, plus, you know, eye candy, so Darcy said "6am tomorrow, if you want to run with me." And headed into the building.

+

+

When she thought about the incident later, she thought about how no one who didn't already know about her had ever seen her scars. She thought about how he had reached out instead of recoiling. She didn't tell Jane about it, and she wasn't sure why.

+

+

Awkward Dr. Eye Candy was waiting at the bench when she got to the trail the next morning.

"Morning doc" she said with a smile, dropping her water and sweater on the bench. She started stretching out. "You okay with the 5K loop?"

 There was a distracted pause before he answered "Yeah, sure."

 "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you" said Darcy, fairly confident in the fact that he would have to go easy on her.  "Just don't leave me by the side of the road if I have a heart attack trying to keep up" she set out onto the path.

They ran quietly for a while. It was clear that his long stride could have easily outpaced her, but he settled into a comfortable gait, letting her set the speed. After a while, it became clear that Awkward Dr. Eye Candy wasn’t a conversation starter, so Darcy dove in.

"So, do you work in the med centre here?"

"No, actually" he said, "down in the labs. I'm sort of into physics"

"So when you told me you were a doctor and asked me to take my shirt off," Darcy said acerbically "it was for physics?"

"Oh! no," he stammered. Darcy was starting to think that making Awkward Dr. Eye Candy uncomfortable could be a very entertaining pastime.

 "I'm an MD, I just also...do physics."

"Double doctor hey?" Awkward Double Doctor Eye Candy was just one too many adjectives. "That's impressive. I am impressed."

"I do what I can" he said dryly.

"Was that a joke?" said Darcy in mock astonishment "careful there, you wouldn't want to strain something."

"Very funny" he said, smiling at her "I can make jokes. I can, in fact, even be funny." It was sort of a tentative statement.

"I'll believe it when I see it" said Darcy.

They had hit the one big hill on the trail, and they were quiet as the path climbed upwards, mostly because Darcy was forcing oxygen into her lungs. Awkward Dr. Eye Candy seemed like he could probably sing opera at the same time.

"What do you do here?" he asked her, somewhat abruptly after her breath had slowed a bit.

"Just started as an analyst" said Darcy, pointedly not going into how she got the job. She kind of liked how normal this all was, on the larger scale of her human interaction these days.

"And do they make all analysts run 5K every morning?"

She laughed; surely he had seen some of the other analysts. There was no way most of them could run more than 10 minutes at a time.

"See" he said, quietly triumphant "a joke"

"One point for the doctor," she agreed "but no. I run to…" she paused, keep control of the terror caused by post traumatic hostage stress seemed a little too personal, "keep a grip on things” she finished.

"Yeah" he said, and she caught his eye and thought he knew exactly what she was talking about.

+

+

They ran together every morning for the rest of that week. She learned that he wasn't a coffee drinker, and that just because he was soft spoken didn’t mean he didn’t have a wickedly dry sense of humor. She learned that he would always let her win a sprint unless she accused him of checking out her ass, then he would easily outpace her with long loping strides and a grin that was _just_ this side of shit eating.

She didn't learn his name, and he didn't ask hers. The minute they became people in each other’s lives would be the minute it stopped being so normal. She would go back to being some damaged little girl that needed to be treated delicately and she didn't know what Awkward Dr. Eye Candy's deal was, but it was almost guaranteed to be more complicated than "eye candy." There was always something going on behind his eyes.

So Awkward Dr. Eye Candy he remained.

+

+

Until the following week, when she went back to work part time in Jane's lab. She and Awkward Dr. Eye Candy did a solid 8K. He commented that her pace was getting better, she commented maybe he was getting slower, and then he quoted yoda at her while they took a sprint up the hill.

And then, she walked into Jane's lab after lunch, and there was Awkward Dr. Eye Candy messing up the one tidy side of the lab. It did not take her long to put it together.

Awkward Dr. Eye Candy, aka Bruce Banner, aka the FREAKING HULK was obliviously lost in his work as she stalked over to Jane and put a coffee down beside her.

"Hey Darce!" she said brightly, not looking up "do we get you in the lab today?"

"Actually," she said tightly, "I was just going to take your forms and go back to my office. Try to make a good first impression and all that" Jane looked up at her.

"Everything OK?" she asked.

"Peachy," said Darcy in a tone that clearly indicated _not now_.

Jane nodded. "You should meet Bruce before you go though," she said "He's over..."

She trailed off as Bruce looked up, caught sight of Darcy, and promptly dropped a pile of paper on the floor.

Darcy didn't even bother glaring at him, she just grabbed the folder of forms angrily. "We," she said savagely "have met." and she turned on her heel and stormed out.

+

+

"So," said Jane, finding Darcy drinking wine directly out of the bottle in her room. "You met Bruce and he kicked your puppy?"

"Awkward Dr. Eye Candy." said Darcy, morosely offering the bottle to Jane.

"Awkward Dr. Eye Candy slash cute runner?" Jane asked incredulously, taking the bottle.

 "Slash Dr. Banner, slash the HULK" Darcy finished.

"Oooooooh boy" said Jane, taking a swig out of the bottle and flopping down on the bed beside her. "And he never mentioned any of his secret identities to you?"

"We never exchanged names." said Darcy "because then we got to stay being normal. And I will give you that I am not exactly Susie Q normal myself, but THE HULK? Really? How do you justify keeping life shit from a running buddy when your life shit could go berserk and KILL PEOPLE if you blow a hammy."

"Well, I don't think it's as bad as all that" said Jane "I work with him every day, and I've never even been mildly concerned. Plus, he hangs out with Tony Stark. That's got to be worse than 'blowing a hammy' whatever that is."

 "You're a real comfort" said Darcy "please focus. Hulk! Lies!"

"Are we monosyllabic now?"

Darcy glared.

"Look," said Jane seriously "this sucks. It really does. I know that running with him was this totally normal thing in your day this week. Nobody gets many uncomplicated moments in their lives around here. And the Hulk is definitely a complication. But I don't think Bruce gets anywhere close to uncomplicated _ever_ with _anyone_. So, I know it was important to you, but it was probably really important to him too."

Darcy sighed, "You’re probably right." she said, "But it was kind of a selfish thing for him to do."

"Will you stop running with him now?"

Darcy took a long swallow "I don't know. I mean. Hey, my running buddy is the Hulk. It doesn't sound like a super good move for those of us who are looking to establish some order in our lives."

“Well,” said Jane, “if it helps, he likes your filing system, so that’s some added order?”

Darcy sometimes didn’t know how Jane’s internal logic system managed to get her through the day.

"This is too complicated right now. More wine is needed. And reality TV. Possibly a movie with a happy ending."

Jane smiled at Darcy fondly. "You got it."

+

+

The evening did not solve her dilemma, and she felt bleary and headachy when she woke up the next morning. But she rolled out of bed, put on her running gear, and headed down to the trail. Because she did not run away from things. At least, that is what Natasha kept telling her. And she was trying.

Bruce was sitting on the bench, clearly waiting for her, when she arrived. He stood up abruptly. "Hi" he said, looking very uncomfortable and at anywhere but her face.

"Morning Bruce." It was not a particularly friendly greeting. He winced. "Something you wanted to tell me?"

"Darcy..." her name sounded a bit experimental, and he had that "I know the time out is coming" face again.

But Darcy had, as seemed to be pretty typical at this point in stressful situations, latched onto to "anger" as her dealing mechanism of choice.

“You didn’t think that maybe I’d like to _know_ that you could turn into a giant green rage monster if you cramped up?”

“It’s not that…”

“Or that you share a lab with my best friend?”

“I didn’t exactly _know_ that….”

“Or that you’re one of the freaking Avengers?”

“Is that really….”

“The Hulk? I mean, seriously, you don’t tell me that you’re…”

“Would you just shut up for a second?” His voice was raised, but it was more exasperation than anger, and Darcy was aware that she was getting a bit out of control, but her adrenaline was high and she just _reacted_. She flung herself back against the chain metal gate, eyes wide.

She could clearly see Bruce’s face crumple, and then it was like a wall fell down behind his eyes and he just looked…blank. It made something twist in Darcy’s stomach and all the fight went right out of her.

Bruce took a step back, “Sorry,” he said in a quiet, controlled voice, “I just wanted to explain. I don’t get normal things in my life. Running with you in the mornings has been the closest to _normal_ I’ve felt in years. It was selfish of me to want to hold onto it under false pretences, but” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “ it was the best part of my day.” He paused for a moment, looking at her, an odd and unreadable look. But when Darcy didn’t respond he turned, and walked away.

Darcy thought about calling after him, but she really wasn’t sure that she wanted to. She also wasn’t sure that she didn’t. She tried to put it out of her mind and just run, but for the first time the rhythm of her runners on the dirt didn’t push it all away. She felt like he was following her, a pace behind. It felt like guilt.

+

+

Later that morning, she was mid-way through translating a report from engineering on one of the General’s gadgets into English when Jane came bursting into her office.

“What did you do to Bruce?” she asked, perching on the corner of her desk and tearing off a corner of her scone to pass to Darcy, “because he came in this morning and started piling up all his papers and told me he was going to look for new lab space, but that it had nothing to do with me.”

“What?” Darcy was genuinely surprised. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that any of this would affect Bruce’s _work_. “Why would he do that?”

“I think,” said Jane, chewing pensively “That he doesn’t want you to feel awkward about helping me out in the lab. He doesn’t like to _inconvenience_ people. It gets a little exhausting sometimes but it does mean I always get the last scone. It also means” she pointed said scone at Darcy threateningly “that your tendency to freak out first and work through things later is going to lose me the best lab partner I’ve ever had.”

Darcy sighed, “I did freak out at him a bit. And then he, like, _barely_ raised his voice at me and I _may_ have overreacted. I am _so_ the wrong person to be hanging around with someone who needs more zen in his life. I am the opposite of zen.”

“If you ask me,” said Jane, “Bruce needs a little less zen and a little more normal in his life. Like having a spunky running buddy. Look,” she put down the scone so Darcy knew she was getting serious, “I get that this whole thing freaked you out and you are entitled to a freak out, especially given what you’ve gone through. But the thing is that Bruce is actually a really great friend and he has more control over the Hulk than he will give himself credit for, so if he thought it was safe to run with you, then it was probably more than safe. He’s the kind of guy who would never put anyone in any kind of danger if he could help it.”

Darcy let out a long sigh. “I know,” she stole another piece of Jane’s scone. “I’ll come down after lunch and talk to him, OK?”

“Excellent,” said Jane, “And I also may have accidentally dumped a drawer full of files out trying to find those drafts of the papers I was working on in New Mexico, so you could take a look at that too.”

Darcy put her head in her hands. “Jane Foster, it is a mystery to me how you get dressed in the morning.”

+

+

When she got down to the lab in the afternoon, she was feeling the awkward twisties. Darcy was not the sort to avoid confrontation, but was usually the one in the right (or at least felt like she was). She was pretty sure, in this case, that she was the immature asshole who needed to get over herself. It was not a good feeling. And Darcy totally _was_ the sort to avoid apologising when she could help it…

“Hey Darce!” said Jane brightly, “great timing, I was just going to get some coffee, you want one?”

Darcy gave Jane an incredulous look. Jane had never _once_ in all the time Darcy had known her _voluntarily_ offered to leave the lab while she was working.

“Jeez, fine!” said Jane, looking past Darcy to Bruce, who had also stopped and looked at Jane with an accusatory expression, “I am going to leave so you two can sort out your…deal” she waved a hand between them. “And I expect to come back to find both my lab partner _and_ my lab fairy working together happily.” She gave them both a stern look and left.

“I prefer lab whisperer” called Darcy after her, but it was a pretty weak parting shot.

She turned to look at Bruce. An awkward silence stretched out between them.

“So,” said Darcy finally, “I came to apologise.” She was glad she sounded a bit more certain of that than she felt.

“Apologise?” said Bruce, “for what?” he managed to look both surprised and sad at the same time. It was a real skill of his.

“For freaking out about you not telling me about your shit when I didn’t tell you about mine, for completely unreasonably panicking when you raised your voice, and for making you miss our run this morning.” She finished a bit breathlessly. She had spent most of the morning carefully working out that list.

“Oh,” he said, “Well that’s not…I mean, you don’t need to apologise for that.”

“Yeah, I kind of do,” she said. “It’s just…I mean, I’m trying to get myself back together after…what happened. And running has been really helping me, you know. It sort of felt like it stopped becoming safe for a minute there when I found out who you were.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But,” he took a step towards her, “you know I would never do anything to put you in danger right?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what Jane said.” Darcy smiled, “and she’s one of the smartest people I know, so if she trusts you, so do I.”

Bruce let out a little breath “Okay.”

“So, no more keeping big green secrets, okay?”

“I only have the one,” said Bruce with a little smile.

“Oh look!” said Darcy, “another joke! You must be at, what, three or four total now?” she teased gently.

“Darcy…” he started.

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” she interrupted.

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know like I’ve suddenly become breakable or something. I don’t want your pity or your protection, and I _definitely_ don’t want you to be tiptoeing around my _feelings_. I just want thing to go back to be normal, I want my running buddy back, okay?”

“You still want to run?” Bruce looked a bit stunned.

“Yeah, I do.” She said, more solidly than she felt. “Look, I flipped out and overreacted. I’ve done it before, and I can promise you I will do it again, but I bounce back to reality pretty quickly.”

“You had every right to freak out,” said Bruce, a bit tightly, “I’m not exactly…safe.”

Darcy decided firmly that Bruce needed to learn to stop feeling sorry for himself. She raised a teasing eyebrow at him “You trying to tell that you’re _dangerous_ Bruce?” It didn’t exactly work. The corner of his mouth turned up, but it was more like he was laughing at himself than anything else.

“Don’t do that,” he said, “Don’t pretend like it doesn’t matter.”

She sighed, “Of course it matters Bruce, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends right? I mean you’ve got Jane and all of the Avengers supporting your ability to be a real person and have real _friends_. Don’t you think it’s time to maybe _listen_ to them and take a step closer to the real world?” She thought it was one of her better self-righteous speeches.

Bruce actually did crack a smile that time “Very eloquent.”

“I’ve been working on it all day,” she responded easily, “now can we forget all this awkwardness so I can fix Jane’s crazy paper mess?”

“Yeah, okay” he said, the smile lingering on his face.

“And you’ll be at the trail tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good.”

+

+

When Jane returned, Bruce was sitting next to Darcy in companionable silence, helping her sort through Jane’s pile of paper and put it back in order. Jane smiled broadly at them, but didn’t say a thing.

“No coffee?” asked Darcy.

“I got sidetracked” said Jane, putting a box of donuts down next to them.

“Forgiven” said Darcy. And things went back to normal in the lab


	5. Hits from the Start

"Was it you in the shadows

I've got to get this right

Walking away with your arms folded tight."

\- The Bees (the Start)

 

When Darcy met Bruce for their run the next morning, despite all her bravado of putting the awkward behind them, it was different. She was very aware of the giant green elephant that hung between them, and she knew he was aware of how she kept just a little more distance between them as they ran.

She wasn’t particularly proud of it, but he made her nervous now in a way that he hadn’t when he was just some guy. It wasn’t even only about the fact that he was the Hulk, although Darcy would be lying if she said it didn’t play on her nerves a bit. And her nerves were already running at high octane since “the incident.” But he was also, all of a sudden, and _automatically_ part of her life in a way that few people ever really were. He was on the team, she _lived_ with most of the team. He had been plopped right in the middle of her circle, and she knew they could never go back to that week of just being normal people who had a casual acquaintance. It was sad, really.

And she noticed that he was a bit more distant as well, just a little bit more polite. As if he was giving her space to push him away. And she didn’t want to do that, not really. But she was also OK with not pulling him any closer. He put her on edge, because she was trying to find her balance again, and something about him, and the way he had so suddenly become so integral in her life, felt like standing at the top of a cliff.

So they were mostly silent, until a thought struck Darcy about halfway through their loop. She said “you know, you are also allowed to freak out at me for not telling you that I live with your team.”

Bruce clearly hadn’t considered this, but he responded quickly, “anything Tony tells you is a lie.”

Darcy laughed so hard she had to stop to catch her breath. And the space between them shrank a little bit after that.

+

+

She had been training on the firing range most of that week, so it was Friday before she was in the gym with Natasha again. Natasha, somewhere along the way, had become the one person who Darcy would actually talk to about what happened. She had refused the SHIELD psychologist several times, and she wasn’t quite sure what made Natasha easier to talk to.

It certainly wasn’t her open and welcoming manner.

Darcy thought it might be because she knew Natasha was never going to go easy on her because of what had happened. Was never going to treat her differently or give her that soft look that Clint would sometimes give her right before he asked her if she was _okay_. And also, Darcy was pretty confident that no one understood the concept of confidentiality better than Tasha.

Natasha also pretty much knew everything already anyways. Which is why Darcy wasn’t surprised when, after she had gone through a warm up stretch and started a series of hit combinations Natasha had set for her, the other woman calmly asked her, “So how’s Bruce?” as she ducked Darcy’s roundhouse and then frowned at her. “Sloppy, show me your technique.”

Darcy centered herself and started through the motion slowly, step by step as Natasha adjusted the angle of her hips. “I’m going to assume you are aware that we had a bit of a blowout on Monday.”

Natasha just raised an eyebrow at her “Give me ten in a row, using proper technique.”

Darcy started the set, returning to a balanced stance between each kick. “He’s fine. We’re still running together. It’s a little less relaxing now that I know he’s the Hulk, but Jane trusts him.”

Natasha nodded at her as she finished the set and stepped in closer. “Okay, now put it back in the combo and really try to _hit_ me.” Darcy began the five move set, as Natasha easily blocked and dodged. “You shouldn’t jeopardize your training and recovery just because you feel sorry for Bruce. And Bruce doesn’t need your pity either.” She said as she stopped Darcy’s fist in her palm “and you can hit harder than that. Again.”

“I don’t feel _sorry_ for him,” said Darcy, landing a kick against Natasha’s shoulder that actually pushed the other woman slightly off balance. She grinned. “Okay, maybe a little. But I like running with someone else. And up until the point where I found out, Bruce was a great running buddy. I’ll get over it.”

Natasha stepped back, “Let’s practice your recovery: take some falls.” She began by landing a kick centre mass at low force. Darcy obediently fell to the mat and rolled, pulling herself to her feet quickly. “Are you really going to get over the Hulk?” She asked, catching Darcy high in the shoulder with an open palm. “Because I met the other guy one time, and ended up hiding in a corner for a solid fifteen minutes.”

Darcy rolled away and jumped to her feet again, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Maybe not. I can’t decide if I _should_ get over it. But just because I’m not ready to ask the guy to babysit my firstborn child doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right? And you guys trust him to be around.”

Natasha nodded in approval. “Good,” she said, sweeping Darcy’s legs out from under her. “Bruce could use a few more friends.” She grinned as Darcy rolled back and kicked out with her legs, getting them underneath her as she flipped to her feet. “Just remember that no one is giving points for style in a real fight. That almost always takes longer than just standing up.” She took a ready stance in front of Darcy.

“Enough warm up,” said Natasha, “Come at me.” She always looked like she enjoyed this part a bit too much.

As they were sitting on the mats later, stretching out, Natasha said, in a rather serious tone. “Bruce is a very reserved man Darcy. It can get mistaken for distance, but he is just as vulnerable as the rest of us. We need the Hulk on the team more than Bruce needs fair weather friends.”

And Darcy liked the way that Natasha didn’t pull punches. “I wouldn’t have kept running with him if I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” She said finally, “and I’m pretty sure that Bruce’s casual running buddy isn’t going to come between him and the team.”

Natasha gave her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. “Just keep it in mind.” And that was the last she said about it.

+

+

Darcy spent her Monday mired in hours and hours of audio tapes from remote surveillance of the new lab run by the General. It largely consisted of ambient noise and the occasional bird interspersed with the odd comment or conversation taking place in the building. However, beyond discovering that whoever the General had working for him had _terrible_ taste in TV shows, nothing relevant had showed up on her tapes yet.

She headed down to the cafeteria for lunch, looking forward to heading to the lab for the afternoon.

She had just sat down with the most palatable looking sandwich on offer, when someone else came to join her. She recognised him from analyst meetings.

“Jim Reynolds,” he said with a shy smile as he sat, “do you mind if I sit?” He was kind of cute, in a bit of a nerdy way. His hair fell over the thick frames of his glasses and his dress shirt had clearly never seen an iron. And she supposed it was probably healthy to have a few friends who weren’t superheroes or insanely brilliant scientists, or both.

“Sure, go ahead,” she said with a smile, “Darcy.” She held out a hand, which he shook somewhat tentatively.

“I’ve seen some of your reports,” he said, “You’ve really got a knack for this work.”

She waved her hand dismissively, “I’m just a beginner. They’re giving me the easy questions.”

He looked at her in a way that made her feel a bit uncomfortable, and then followed it with a comment that made her _really_ uncomfortable. “Of course, it probably helps that you’ve spent so much time around the guy.”

Darcy put down her sandwich. She was used to the other analysts hinting around “the incident”, but not coming right out and talking to her about it. She didn’t like it at all, not from this total stranger.

“I don’t like talking about it,” she said firmly.

“Oh,” he said, looking a bit flustered, “Right, of course. Sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said tightly, standing up and picking up her tray. “I’ve got to get back to work anyways,” she really didn’t. “It was nice meeting you Jim.” Not at all, really.

After the second day in a row that Jim came to sit with her at lunch and asked her awkward questions, Darcy needed help.

“Jane,” she burst into the lab around 12:30 when she would normally go for lunch. “I need an adult.”

Jane and Bruce both looked up from their respective lab benches.

“What?” It was that special tone Jane had somewhere between alarmed and exasperated that she only used on Darcy.

“One of the analysts keeps sitting with me at lunch and being weird.” She said, hopping up to perch on Jane’s lab bench.

“What kind of weird?” said Jane patiently.

“Pretty sure he wants to know my pain and then make it better. Possibly by having dirty dirty sex with me.” Nothing wrong with humor as a defense mechanism, right?

“Oh, that kind of weird.” Jane rolled her eyes.

Bruce, Darcy was pretty sure, just about choked on his tea.

“You have to come to lunch with me.” Darcy said. “Please?”

“Darcy, if someone is bothering you I’m sure you could just let Agent Hill know…” Bruce said cautiously.

“Or you could just have dirty dirty sex with him,” said Jane calmly, head turned back to her work.

“Get your mind out of the gutter hotsauce,” Darcy responded flippantly, pointedly ignoring how uncomfortable the thought of getting close to someone like that made her. Especially the awkward analyst who was the only one currently trying.

Bruce let out a very good impression of a long suffering sigh, “Why don’t you just come eat lunch with us.” He said, “The stuff we get delivered is always better than the cafeteria food.”

Darcy hopped off the bench and looked at him sternly. “You mean you’ve been having delicious lunches without getting hit on by awkward analysts for _weeks_ and you haven’t invited me?”

“Well,” said Bruce with a little grin, “There _has_ been the odd awkward member of the maintenance staff…”

Darcy laughed, “Add one point to your tally Bruce. What are you at now?”

“Must be almost eight by now,” said Bruce with a grin, “I’m on a roll.”

Jane gave her a questioning sort of look, but simply said “Now that we’ve sorted that out, can we get back to work?”

Later, she asked Darcy if she still wanted her eye candy running buddy to throw her up against a wall and ravish her. Darcy rolled her eyes, and didn’t answer the question.

+

+

The first night that Darcy slept a solid 7 hours without a nightmare, she woke Clint up at 5:30 am to tell him. She knew he and Natasha still worried the most, largely because they didn’t have much else going on to distract them right now. And they also knew the most about getting dragged into this lifestyle when you weren’t a god or a super soldier…or a Tony.

So he grumbled when he answered the door to her insistent pounding, but when she cheerfully informed him of her latest victory, he high fived her within an inch of her life.

“Well that’s the best reason for a party I’ve heard in a while.” He said, padding upstairs to the kitchen with her as she got ready to head out for her run. “We should bring the team around.” He said.

“Sure, sounds fun,” said Darcy.

“Do you want to invite Bruce?” he said, as he tossed her an orange off the table.

When Clint had heard about the whole ‘the Hulk was her running buddy but he didn’t tell her who he was’ fiasco, he had not been particularly pleased with Bruce. Darcy was pretty sure that had all blown over, but Clint still seemed a little wary of the time she spent with Bruce.

She rolled her eyes, “Listen bird brain, just because I freaked out and overreacted that _one_ time does not mean that Bruce gives me the heebie jeebies or anything.”

Clint laughed at her, “Heebie jeebies? You’ve been spending too much time with Steve.”

“Hey, if Captain America wants to spend all afternoon drawing me like one of his French girls, I’m not going to argue.”

Clint dropped a spoon with a clatter, “Did Steve _actually_ draw a naked picture of it? Are you guys _carrying on?_ Can I see it? Wait no, I don’t want to see it.”

Darcy laughed out loud and, with his ever present impeccable timing, Steve walked in. “See what?”

“Clint thinks that maybe that sketch you did of me the other day was a _naked_ sketch,” said Darcy, making suggestive eyes at Steve, “and that perhaps we are carrying on a torrid affair.”

“What?” Steve’s voice jumped about two octaves, and his cheeks flushed bright red “Clint, you know I would never…”

“You’re saying I’m not good enough for you, Captain Rogers?” asked Darcy, raising an eyebrow, because it was really fun to watch Steve splutter and try to find the appropriate response.

“Darcy, I think it might be dangerous for all of us when you get a solid night’s sleep.” Said Clint, in a mock stern tone, “I won’t be held responsible when you ruin Captain America.”

And, true to form, Steve turned to her with a huge grin, the teasing forgotten, “You slept well last night? Really?”

“All the way through it, Cap.” Because she wasn’t even going to try to pretend that this wasn’t a big deal for her. Steve swept her up in an enormous warm hug.

“I’m so glad.” He said, setting her down again.

 “We’re celebrating tonight,” said Clint, “Darcy’s going to see if she can drag Bruce over.”

“Well, at least give it the old college try,” Steve said, “He never listens to me.”

“Endorphins,” said Darcy, finishing a glass of water and grabbing her bag, “Everyone is more agreeable when they’re exercising. I’ll get him to come over and have some fun if I have to drag him the whole way.”

+

+

On her way to meet Bruce, Darcy’s phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Tony.

<<I hear we are celebrating with the team tonight>>

Darcy let out a low groan. SOP was to try to conceal social plans from Tony until the last possible minute. The reasoning behind this became immediately clear.

<<Strippers?>>

<<No Tony>>

<<Hookers and blow?>>

<<NO>>

<<What if I can find strippers that will dress like Captain America? >>

<<Absolutely not>>

<<A small gathering of the team where we have some good clean fun?>>

<<Thank you Pepper.>>

Darcy tucked her phone away with a smile.

It was well into their run before Darcy worked up the nerve to tell Bruce. She wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was just because, up until this point, they only saw each other at work. She didn’t even know where Bruce lived.

“So I was wondering if you want to come over the tower tonight?” She asked finally.

Bruce looked over at her, a bit of a flush creeping up his neck. “You want me to…come over?” Darcy couldn’t read his tone. It sounded a bit…tense.

“Yeah, the team is getting together.”

“Oh…” there was a pause. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh it’s silly really,” said Darcy dismissively, “I think the guys have been looking for an excuse. I just slept through the night last night.”

“Hey,” he said, with this warm and genuine smile that Darcy wasn’t sure she had seen on him before, “hey that’s amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s my big talent.” She said, but she smiled back at him.

“I…I don’t know if I should come,” said Bruce after a pause.

“You have to! It’s the essence of the whole _team_ thing.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the point. I’m sure you’ve noticed that certain members of the team get a bit…boisterous?”

“That’s the nicest word I’ve heard applied to their bro-ings on in a while.” Darcy agreed with a smile.

“Well I don’t know if it’s helpful when I show up for stuff like this and don’t really…take part.”

Darcy felt a sharp pang for Bruce at that. He was so careful of other people, so considerate that his issues might inconvenience them. She wished she could make him understand how much they all liked and respected him. And wanted him to be around.

She leaned down to scoop up a pine cone and chucked it at his head, because she was bad with feelings. “You’re an idiot Bruce.” She said.

“So we’re kicking me when I’m down now?” said Bruce rubbing at his head and raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nope, we are pointing out to you that if you can handle running with me, you can handle an evening hanging out with the team. I promise it will be far less stressful.”

“Oh yeah?” said Bruce, “You sure you feel comfortable making promises about a party that Tony is attending? What do I get if you’re wrong?”

“I’ll go and get you your weird stinky tea every afternoon for a week.” She said.

“You have a deal.”

She smiled triumphantly.

+

+

Tony came down promptly at 8:00 with two obscenely large bottles of liquor. Darcy took them from him with a roll of her eyes and handed him an X Box controller.

“So we’re having a super hero party in the best penthouse in Manhattan and we’re going to play video games?” asked Tony with a raised eyebrow.

“And drink booze,” said Darcy, “what’s it to ya, afraid you’re going to lose to a girl?”

Tony demanded three rematches before he would admit defeat.

Bruce showed up a little late, but he brought her an old fashioned night cap in honor of the occasion, so that was fine.

He turned down all of the highly flammable drinks Tony tried to press on him, which wasn’t surprising. But he beat Steve in Mario Cart on the old N64 like he wasn’t even trying. Steve looked pretty surprised at that. Bruce’s only response was an ever so slightly smug grin and “What? You think all I do is sit around and do yoga?”

A little later, as Steve and Clint were in a heated match of something on the Wii (Clint was handicapped by being a little bit drunk, which made any game where you needed to aim something closer to a fair match), Darcy, who may have had a drink or two herself, perched on the arm of the chair Bruce was sitting in.

“Glad you came,” she said, elbowing him in the shoulder.

He looked up, “Yeah,” she liked seeing him smile like that, “I’m glad you talked me into it.”

She rolled her eyes, “If that’s ‘talking you into’ something then you are a total pushover.”

“Or maybe you’re just very convincing.”

“That has to be nine jokes by now Bruce! You’re almost at double digits!”

“Bruce! Darcy!” Drunk Tony gave them a very serious look. “Dear old robin hood and I are the reigning champions of Mario party.”

“Because you cheat!” called Pepper from near the kitchen.

“Yes yes,” he waved dismissively. “Care to try your luck?”

Darcy looked at Bruce who raised an eyebrow at her. “Well he’s sober and I kick your ass every Saturday morning, so I like our odds.”

In the end, the round robin ended in a showdown against Natasha (who could hold her liquor like a champ) and Steve (sober), although Darcy and Bruce had trounced Clint and Tony handily.

She and Pepper stood by the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching what looked suspiciously like a bet changing hands between Bruce and Tony. She would bet her next paycheck that science was involved.

Jane came over to hand her a fresh drink that she probably didn’t need but accepted anyways. “So what’s the deal with you and Bruce,” she asked casually.  Well, she did her best. Drunk Jane was not a subtle woman.

“What deal?” asked Darcy, knowing exactly what Jane was trying to do.

“Well,” said Pepper, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen Bruce interact socially with a woman before. At least not by choice.”

“No way!” said Jane, “He’s a super hero! He’s got to have some sort of love interest! It’s like, the rules!”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her. That was the _last_ time she let Jane attack her comic collection.

 “Actually,” said Pepper, “He kind of does.”

Both Jane and Darcy looked at her sharply. “Spill Miss Potts!” Jane said excitedly. She was such a gossip for a nuclear physicist.

“I don’t know much about it. But there’s definitely a woman in his background. Betty, I think. They met before…well, everything happened. I gather the relationship didn’t survive all that long past that.”

“Oh no! Do you know…”

Darcy cut off Jane’s enthusiastic questioning, partially because she remembered there was at _least_ one person in the room who could probably hear every word they were saying, but also because she thought about what Bruce’s face would look like if he knew they were talking about this. “That’s his business.” She said sharply.

Pepper nodded. “You’re right Darcy, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Spoilsport, with your good judgement,” said Jane sticking her tongue out.

+

+

After the party started winding down, Jane found Darcy brushing her teeth and flopped down on her bed.

“So seriously Darce, what’s your deal with Bruce.”

Darcy sighed. Tenacious. She forgot drunk Jane was tenacious.

“There’s no deal with Bruce.” She said, “We are friends. Can’t I be friends with a guy?”

“Sure you can be,” said Jane, “but you guys have your sweaty running time, and your inside jokes, and he _watches_ you.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, joining Jane on the bed. “ _Everyone_ watches me, like I’m going to fall apart or something.”

“But you totally think he’s cute.” Jane insisted.

“Well yeah, but so does everyone with _eyes_ Jane. I also think Thor is cute, but you don’t get on my back about him.”

Jane sighed. “You really have no mushy feeling for Bruce? Because I think you do. I think you _should!_ ” She proclaimed dramatically.

“Jane,” she couldn’t help but grinning at her friend, “Bruce is great, he really is. But he’s also not exactly uncomplicated. I don’t have a lot of room for any more complications in my life, okay?”

Jane started snoring softly.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Hey Thor!” she called out the open door, Jane started awake, “You left something in here!”

+

+

She lay awake for a while, Jane’s suggestion rolling around in her mind. She wondered, if Bruce didn’t have that giant green complication, or if she wasn’t completely too far tied up in dealing with her own emotions to share any with anyone else…But she was letting herself get carried away. There was no way that Bruce though about her like that. And there was no way she could think about _anyone_ like that right now. And Darcy had always been one to hold her head up higher than her heart. And so she pushed the thought firmly away.

She had plenty of other things to think about, as Natasha had decided she should start learning some of the so called “soft skills” of the trade. A lot of these skills seemed to be related to doing her job, and she wondered whether Natasha wasn’t colluding with HR to get overtime out of her.

“Darcy,” said Natasha, in her most patient voice, which was kind of terrifying, “if you’re using a job as a cover to gain someone’s trust, you have to be _good_ at that job. You have to be the best. The one that they’re going to go to whenever they have a choice, and the one they’re going to trust with sensitive information when they need to.”

“I get it, I do,” she said, “I just don’t see why I need to do it in _heels_.”

“Sex appeal,” said Natasha, “If you can’t make a target trust you, you can sure as hell make them want to fuck you.”

“Isn’t that anti-feminist or something?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, “Do you think some asshole who kills people that get in his way is going to give a shit about the feminist movement when he sees a hot secretary? We don’t have the luxury on assignment.”

“Point taken.”

“You can work on the efficiency while walking in heels part with Pepper later,” said Natasha brusquely. “Today, we need to start talking about seduction.”

“How can you say these things with a straight face,” Darcy asked incredulously.

“Practice,” Natasha deadpanned, “Now imagine you needed to lift a flash drive off a target and the only way to get close enough is to get into his bedroom. What’s your first move?”

“Uhhhh, wear something sexy? Try a line?” This was not Darcy’s forte.

“No.” Said Natasha giving her a _look_. “Firstly, the correct answer was ‘who is the target’?”

“Okay, who’s the target?” Darcy asked patiently.

“Older man, smart, but not confident. Not bad looking, but not aware of his looks. Technical expert.” Natasha rattled off.

“And I don’t dress sexy?” That was really Darcy’s only move.

“Darcy, a woman who looks like you walks up to a man like that and starts overtly flirting, he’s going to know something is up.” She loved how Natasha said things like that like they were fact. “How would you go about it if you were actually interested in a guy like that?”

“Make friends first, I guess. But I’d probably pay a lot more attention to how my hair looked on a day to day basis.” Oh how pathetic it all was.

“Exactly,” Natasha said, “Men are visual creatures. If you up your game a little bit, like you’re aware someone might be watching, they’ll notice. And you’ve always got to get an in before you can start gaming them.”

“Gaming them?”

“Yeah, once you’re in close enough that they’ve probably thought about you naked, then you can play the seduction card.” Natasha stood up.

“I don’t think I _have_ the seduction card,” said Darcy.

“Bullshit,” said Natasha, pulling her to her feet. “Pretend I’m the target. We know each other, you’ve got your in, and you’ve got me alone. Now get close enough to pick my pocket,” she put a slip of paper in the back pocket of her lycra workout pants, “and distract me enough so that I don’t notice you taking it.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her, but Natasha had her ass kicking get to work face on. So she thought back to that one acting class she’d taken in college, and that one drunken party where she had made out with her college roommate, and gave it the old college try.

“Natasha,” she smiled at the other woman, it felt like a stupid smile. “I think my necklace is caught on something, can you check it for me.” She pulled her hair forward, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Natasha took a step closer and put a hand on the back of her neck, “I think I got it,” she said, a little breathily, like maybe it made her nervous to be this close. Oh she was _good_.

So Darcy shucked aside her embarrassment and went for broke. She inhaled audibly. “You smell nice, how do you smell nice in the gym?” she blinked up at Natasha for a moment, before ducking her head again. “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t think about those things.” It was easy for her to play this awkward. Awkward was her middle name, after all.

“You think about…those things?” said Natasha, looking at her with wide guileless eyes.

Darcy stepped in closer, “all the time,” she said in a low voice, tentatively reaching up and brushing Natasha’s hair behind her ear. She was kind of getting into the swing of it now. She tried call up the sense memory of romantic situations in her life. “Do you….think about it?” She asked, letting her hand fall from Natasha’s shoulder and running it lightly down her back to her hip.

“I…” Natasha broke her gaze, blushing. How did she _do_ that. “Sometimes?” she looked back up at her with parted lips. Darcy tightened her grip on the other woman’s hip, reached up with her other hand to touch Natasha’s face, and moved in closer. Her fingers just brushed the top of her pocket. She came closer, only inches away from her face, and then all at once dipped her fingers just a tiny bit lower, scissoring the paper between two fingers and pushing her away. “God, I’m sorry. I can’t. I mean, you’re my boss. This is so inappropriate. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“I think you’re a terrible pickpocket,” said Natasha, crossing her arms, “But not too bad at the seduction bit for a beginner.”

There was applause from the other side of the gym. Darcy jumped.

“Oh _yeah_ ,” Tony said enthusiastically, “ten out of ten.  Oscar nods all around. Let’s see it again”

He took a step in, revealing that he had been standing in the doorway with Bruce.

“What do you think Bruce? On the scale of really sexy things I have seen this year, that’s got to be a top ten.”

Bruce looked a little flushed, but he played along good naturedly, “What exactly has topped _that_ in your year?”

Darcy blushed, she was sure, a really unattractive beet red.  “Ha ha ha guys, this is super secret spy training, not material for your spank bank.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” said Bruce with a slow smile.

“My my, we’re feeling sassy today,” said Tony, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. “Yeah Darcy, you can’t tell us what to do.” Tony’s tone was _much_ more obnoxious.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “No wanking to Darcy’s training. Jarvis, delete the video please.”

Apparently, Natasha _could_ tell them what to do.

“Spoil sport,” muttered Tony.

“We were actually coming down to let you know that Tony has ordered an extravagant dinner and you’re all invited,” said Bruce, looking at Tony a bit reproachfully.

“Well they were being distracting,” said Tony defensively.

“Yes we were,” said Darcy cheerfully, “and we will be there for your extravagant dinner.”

+

+

A few weeks later, Darcy got called into a meeting in the big boardroom on Monday morning. It had been quite a while since all the analysts had been together. Jim the awkward lunchtime analyst, who had taken to dropping by her office every now and again since she had stopped eating lunch in the cafeteria, waved enthusiastically at her and took the seat next to her.

“Hey Jim,” she said with a patient smile.

“Hey Darcy!” he said, “Do you know what the big meeting is for?”

“Not a clue,” said Darcy. “Hopefully good news about…”

“People!” Fury stormed in, “Will you please shut up and sit down.”

They shut up and sat down.

“Agent Hill, this was your find, go ahead.” He turned the floor over to Maria Hill.

“Thank you,” said Hill, standing up with a nod. “We’ve got some good news.” She said, “Our intelligence gathering has picked up a break and we were able to run some detailed database searches. We have a name for the General.”

There was an audible intake of breath around the room.

“His name is General Andrew Gabriel, formerly of the US military.”

There was a hushed buzz that flew around the room.

“He was dishonorably discharged after disobeying direct orders from his chain of command. He was known to have a strong stance towards devastation based campaigns and a strong dislike of the bureaucratisation of the military, which tracks with his current actions. Most importantly, we have been able to track a financial connection to AIM, which has led us to three more locations.”

Fury stood up again. “Excellent work Agent Hill, you will all be getting detailed reports on this today so you can use the information going forward. I want Barton and Romanoff on an infiltration and reconnaissance mission to the new locations as soon as possible. If he’s following trends, he’s going to be clearing them out. We need to find out what’s going on and ideally where they are relocating.”

They got into the minutiae of planning the op, and Darcy listened carefully, adding information where she could. If Clint and Natasha were going out, she wanted to be sure it was done right.

When the meeting was over, she was pleased to see Clint down at the end of the hall. She was less pleased when Jim caught up with her.

“Hi Darcy,” he stopped her in the hall,

“What’s up Jim?” she said with a smile.

“Well I was sort of wondering,” he adjusted his glasses, “I was wondering if maybe I could take you out for a drink tonight?”

Jim was a pretty nonthreatening guy, and he wasn’t invading her personal space, and all in all it was a polite and even charming request, but Darcy felt a wall of panic slam into her.

“I…Um, sorry Jim, I don’t think that’s a great idea…” she was stiff and stammering. Clint, super hero extraordinaire, swooped in.

“Hey Darcy, sorry to interrupt, but I need to steal you for a minute.” His hand was firm on her arm. “Sorry man,” he tossed Jim a little sarcastic salute and a fairly unfriendly grin.

He pulled her into an empty small board room at the end of the hall.

“Do I need to cut a bitch?” He said, sitting her down on a chair and perching on the table.

“No! No.” Darcy said hastily, running a hand though her hair, “that perfectly nice, nerdy analyst just asked me on a date and I had a minor panic attack.”

“Explain,” said Clint in a leading tone.

Darcy sighed, “I don’t know, I just…the whole idea of _dating_ right now is kind of…terrifying.” She could feel the lump in her throat rising and her eyes tearing up. She swiped at them hastily, because this was _silly_.

“Hey…hey kiddo,” Clint hopped down from the table and grabbed her hand, “What is all this?”

“I don’t know really,” she struggled to keep her voice even, “I just…I’m only just getting my shit back together, you know. I feel like I’m in this crazy not-real-life holding pattern, where the Black Widow is training me to kick ass and I live with super heroes. Every time I’m forced to think about things that feel like real life, and moving forward. It’s…god, I’m still so afraid of _everything_.” Two fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

Clint was not great with emotions all of the time, but he was good at watching out for her, so he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her and let her cry for a minute.

After a little while, she pulled back.

“You done with the meltdown?” he said with a grin, wiping at her face with a thumb.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said with a watery grin.

“I think it’s totally normal that you need some time before you can put your heart out there,” he said in a serious tone, “falling in love is fucking scary at the best of times.”

“I don’t think I’m in danger of falling in love with Jim the nerdy analyst,” said Darcy wryly.

“Fair enough,” said Clint with a smile, “But…just don’t wait forever kiddo, because once you find the man that can deserve you, he’s going to be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Clint Barton, you big marshmallow!” said Darcy with a fond smile, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t spread it around.”

She didn’t even think about the optics of Clint pulling her away from Jim in the hallway and then exiting a boardroom a little while later looking a little the worse for wear until one of the analysts from down the row asked her if she was really screwing _Hawkeye_. She thought it might keep Jim from making a second attempt, so she just raised an eyebrow and didn’t say a word on the subject.


	6. Red

"My eyes are open and he's

softly spoken

and the world makes sense

 a little more."

 - Carrie Monolakos (Red)

 

Over the weekend, Darcy put in some extra time with Natasha because she and Clint were due to head out on a potentially long term assignment to infiltrate the General’s locations in the next two or three weeks.

They were sparring in the gym on Saturday when Clint and Steve came in heading for the free weights. They stopped for a moment to watch the two women fight.

Darcy opened with a low sweeping kick, which Natasha jumped over and landed, spinning around and bringing her arm down towards Darcy’s shoulder. Darcy grabbed the other woman’s wrist and let herself fall backwards, pulling Natasha forward with her momentum.

“Good,” said Natasha, easily leaping to her feet. “You’re still telegraphing too much. Hit your center every time. If you have to readjust before you move I’ll always see it coming.”

Darcy launched rapid series of punches at Natasha’s upper body. She caught her on the side of a jaw, and Natasha answered back with a knee towards Darcy’s middle. Darcy grabbed her leg, and Natasha used the leverage to jump and twist, kicking out at Darcy and catching her in the right shoulder, knocking her off balance.

She pulled herself together, and went for an uppercut, at the last second launching herself into a roundhouse that caught Natasha square in the side. Darcy took advantage and crouched out of the kick, sweeping her leg back and catching Natasha behind the knees and lunging over to push her to the ground. And she knew that Natasha was going _way_ easy on her, but _damn_ it felt good to pin the Black Widow to the mat.

Clint let out a long low whistle while Steve applauded. Darcy hadn’t noticed they were there, but jumped up and curtsied before pulling Natasha to her feet.

“Yes, yes, I am getting good at pretending Natasha isn’t letting me land a few hits for my ego.” She downed some water, wiping sweat from her face with the back of her hand.

“Darcy,” said Steve, “You are getting _really_ good.” He sounded deeply impressed.

“Yeah, I totally thought Nat was just humoring you, but you can actually kick some _ass_.” She glared at Clint who grinned cheekily back at her.

“Oh you guys, you know I’ll make waffles for you even if you don’t fluff up my ego.” She brushed aside their compliments. It was a little odd, getting compliments on your ability to hurt other people.

“They’re not humoring you,” said Natasha, “and neither am I. You could probably pass the basic training test for Agents without breaking a sweat.”

“Really?” asked Darcy incredulously. There was no way she thought she had come that far. “Well that’s it! No more waffles for you guys, you can make _me_ waffles.”

“I’ll do you one better,” said Steve, “I’m going to get SHIELD to lift your supervision order so you can go out on your own if you want to. With a panic button of course, but there’s no point in forcing an Agent to tail you all the time when you could probably kick their asses.”

“Okay Steve, _you_ can still have waffles,” said Darcy with an enormous grin. She hadn’t really felt a strong desire to go out on her own in the city and be so exposed, but now that Captain America was telling her she could, the tower felt stifling all of a sudden, and the world felt wider again.

She took up running in Central Park on the weekends. As the fall weather turned the leaves golden over the rolling hills and water in the Park, she stopped looking over her shoulder so often, and she felt like maybe the world could be a safe place sometimes.

+

+

“So,” said Tony, pushing into the lab at SHIELD one November afternoon, “I hear it’s a certain little hostage victim slash lab assistant slash analyst slash ass kicker’s birthday this weekend.”

“Who told Tony!” hollered Darcy from the corner of the lab where she was calibrating a titration for Bruce.

“I have access to your employment records,” said Tony casually, “So. Party?”

“Party!” agreed Jane with a grin.

“Jane, a Tony party? Come on! Bruce, you’ve got my back right?”

Bruce grinned mischievously at her, “Party.”

“Yes!” Tony exclaimed, “Lab majority rules, buy something slutty Lewis, we are going out on the town!”

+

+

Pepper managed to talk Tony down to throwing an extravagant party in the tower, but Darcy didn’t think that Pepper even _tried_ to talk him out of the “something slutty” rule. She had rifled through her closet before settling on a little black dress that was low cut enough for Tony’s party rules, but long enough that she felt comfortable. She tried to channel some of Natasha’s lessons as she minced up the stairs in four inch red heels.

“Surprise!!!” All of the lights were on, and she had _seen_ most of them walking up there, but it was still kind of awesome that they were all standing there with party streamers. Someone had talked Bruce into a little party hat that sat askew on his head.

“Oh my god! I am _so surprised!_ ” Darcy put on her most over the top voice.

“Happy sweet 16 jailbait,” said Tony, pressing a drink into her hand and kissing the top of her head.

“Oh Tony, you know I’m turning 19,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“You…you’re not actually 19 are you?” asked Bruce.

Darcy laughed at his expression, “No Bruce, I am not 19. But you are really climbing my top ten friend list by thinking that I might be. I am turning the ripe old age of 28 today.”

“Yes, you are officially in your late 20s” said Jane, throwing her arms around her, “It’s all downhill from here.”

“Yeah,” said Bruce, “Now you can rent a car without paying for the extra insurance, there’s nothing to look forward to until you can get the senior’s special.”

“And you’re, what, two, three years away old man?” said Clint.

“More like two or three decades,” scoffed Darcy, “I happen to know with my top secret basic informational analyst access that Bruce is only 38, so I don’t know what kind of maturity trip he’s been pulling on you guys.”

“I do not understand this midgardian custom of marking maturity by years,” said Thor, “I have been alive for many years more than Jane, and yet we can meet as equals.” He looked down at Jane with a smile. 

“There will be no maturity here!” cried Tony, “or any of this rampant sentimentality. Jarvis, music! Everyone else, shots! I claim the first dance with the birthday girl.”

Turns out Tony’s version of dancing involved inappropriate grinding motions while holding a bottle of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other.

Bruce, on the other hand, couldn’t be talked into any more than two drinks and an adorably awkward white boy bop.

Darcy lost track of the number of shots she had had, and had kicked of her heels to cut a rug with Steve, who was trying to teach her about swing dance, but he was really bad at it and Darcy was kind of drunk.

It was about 11:00 when suddenly Clint shouted “Presents!!” and clapped twice. They must have worked it out ahead of time, or their super hero team reaction speed was being epically misused, because Jarvis shut down the music and everyone disappeared and reappeared with wrapped (with varying degrees of skill) packages in record time.

“You guys,” said Darcy, “You didn’t have to get me anything!”

“Yes we did,” said Clint, stepping up behind her and clasping a delicate chain around her neck. From it hung a bow and arrow that sat just below her collar bone.

 “Darce,” he said, looking uncharacteristically serious, “when we came for you, you were just this kid who needed our help, but we’ve all watched you recover and grow and it turns out that you are this really incredible person and we all really needed you in our lives. _I_ really needed you in my life, and I am always going to be around to protect you, even though you’re getting closer to being able to kick my ass every day.”

“Clint…this is…” Darcy couldn’t find any words.

“Also, I think it does a great job of drawing attention to your rack.” Clint added with a waggle of his eyebrows, because he was almost as bad with sincere emotion as Darcy was.

“Ah yes, there’s the asshole I know and love.” She quipped, but pulled him into a warm hug and whispered “thank you,” as she pulled away.

“Well how are the rest of us supposed to top that,” said Tony, “I thought we told you to go last Barton.”

Clint just smirked at them and planted a kiss on the side of Darcy’s hair.

The rest of the team didn’t do too badly though. Jane and Thor had found her a series of rare comics that she had been looking to add to her collection, Tony and Pepper had given her a pair of Manolo Blahniks that Pepper swore were comfortable enough to run in, Steve had given her an old fashioned charm bracelet that held little emblems representing each of the Avengers. The miniature Captain America shield was her panic button, of course.

Natasha proudly presented her with her very own personalized SHIELD “uniform”, also known as a catsuit, which led to many request for the two women to suit up and fight it out which were promptly ignored.

Bruce gave her a top of the line running computer. It was very practical, and for some reason Darcy was a little disappointed.

As the party turned away from sentimentality and towards more alcohol, Clint pulled Darcy out on the dance floor and began to demonstrate exactly why Natasha didn’t like to be seen in public with him. It involved a lot of pelvic thrusting and faux sexy faces. Darcy laughed until her stomach hurt, and draped her arms around his shoulders. “You know, you are doing _nothing_ to help the office rumors” she said.

“Good thing the office isn’t here,” said Clint, whirling her around into a dramatic dip.

She took a break to grab some water and found Bruce in the kitchen, gathering up his coat from where he left it on the counter.

“Bruce!” she exclaimed, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Yeah,” he said, ducking his head and looking up at her with an odd expression, “it’s getting a bit…too much for me.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling her party mood sink a bit. “I thought you were getting better at this sort of thing, being around the team.”

Bruce sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, “Look, you really haven’t know me for all that long, so it’s understandable that you would look at the way I sometimes act and the choices I make and think that I just need someone to pull me out of my shell or something, but that’s not what this is. I _am_ comfortable around the team, but I _always_ have to put the other guy first. So the minute things start getting…out of control, or I feel angry or…or jealous, or overwhelmed. I have to leave. It’s both a self and others preservation thing.”  He finished, pointedly avoiding her eyes.

This rolled around in Darcy’s booze soaked mind for a little while, and made her feel something heavy and unpleasant in the pit of her stomach.

“I wish I could take that weight away from you, just for a minute.” Was what came out.

He looked up at her, his expression dark. “So do I,” he smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes.   
“Happy Birthday Darcy,” he looked like he was going to reach out to her, but he didn’t. He just turned and headed for the elevator.

She stood there, feeling unutterably sad for a moment, until Jane burst into the kitchen. “Darcy!” she hollered in a surprisingly loud voice, “get out here, we’re doing jager bombs!”

She let the joy and enthusiasm of her friend carry her back into the party, and pushed her worry about Bruce to the back of her mind for a little while.

+

+

It was 6:12 on Wednesday morning, and Darcy was starting to get worried. Bruce was _never_ late for anything. Their lab ran on Banner standard time. And he was now 12 minutes late for their run.

At 6:14, just before she was about ready to call out the National Guard, Bruce walked through the gate looking like death warmed over.

“Bruce!” she exclaimed, walking over to him, “You look terrible! Sit down.”

He sat heavily on the bench, “You do wonders for my ego Darcy.” His sarcasm was half hearted as he drank some water. “Give me a minute and I’ll be good to go. Maybe just a short one today though.”

“Bruce,” Darcy crossed her arms indignantly, “There is _no way_ we are running today. I am taking you home, putting you back to bed, and calling a doctor.” She paused, “another doctor.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“Team training last night,” he answered with a sigh, “Hill wants the other guy to train with the team. He’s more manageable when I let him out voluntarily and he needs to get to know them in non-threatening situations. It just…takes a lot out of me.”

“Oh,” the idea of the Hulk out there training with the rest of the Avengers was a bit…daunting. But she was pretty sure Bruce wouldn’t be sitting here all calm and relatively normal if the other guy had accidentally smashed one of them in training. “Well, I think that’s good. That’s good, right?”

Bruce shrugged noncommittally.

“Anyways, it doesn’t change the fact that you are not running and I am taking you home.”

It was a mark of how exhausted Bruce really was that he stood up and said, “Yeah, okay.”

Darcy grabbed his water bottle and sweater that he had deposited on the bench and marched towards the building.

“Uh, Darcy?” Bruce called out to her, she stopped and turned. “I live that way,” he point east into the woods, the opposite direction from which the trails ran.

It turns out that Bruce actually took a golf cart to work every day, because he lived just a few miles out in the woods behind SHIELD. They pulled the little cart up to a low wood and glass structure that blended into the surrounding foliage. Off to one side a little ways was an imposing metal and glass…well, Darcy wasn’t sure what it was.

“What’s that?” she asked Bruce.

“Containment,” he said without looking at it.  “It’s where I go when I’m…having a bad day.”

“You mean it will actually hold the Hulk? It looks pretty breakable…” she said skeptically.

“Adamantine reinforced glass. And if the other guy gets aggressive, there’s an automated trank.” He said it with a clinical distance, in this straightforward business as usual tone that made her look at the really rather aesthetically pleasing glass structure and see nothing but a prison.

The house, however, was a sanctuary. Darcy walked into it and felt immediately too loud. Everything was subdued and masculine and practical. There was a photo on a bookshelf of Bruce with a beautiful brunette. The look on his face was so open and relaxed. Darcy guessed that it must be Betty. She immediately felt she was intruding.

“Well, now that you’re safely home, you go get some sleep and I’ll just take a quick loop back to the lab and let Jane know you won’t be in.” She rolled nervously on her toes.

“Oh, I’ll be in. I’m fine, I was just probably being a bit ambitious thinking I could keep up with you this morning.” He paused, “Do you want to stay? I’ll make you breakfast, give you a lift back in?” He smiled at her. “You work too hard anyways, you can afford a day off the trails.”

Darcy had never been one to turn down free breakfast, so she plopped down on the low couch and said “If _you’re_ telling me I work too hard, I may need to sort out my life priorities.”

He brought her a cup of tea and told her to go ahead and snoop while he was in the kitchen with a look that told her he knew she was going to do it anyways.

It felt oddly intimate to be in his house.

He had a lot of books. She ran her fingers down the spines as she browsed the shelves. A lot of it was expected, textbooks about things she didn’t understand, treatises on stuff like string theory and evolution and space that he probably read for fun. There were also some unexpected things, like old dog eared editions of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, and some trashy pulp thrillers and spy novels.

She had a closer look at that photo of Bruce and Betty. The woman had an ethereal glow to her. Darcy put it down and walked away.

She was checking out the wooded views when Bruce called to her to “come and get it.” Apparently, among his other talents, somewhere along the way Bruce had become a pretty decent cook. The omelette he had whipped up in record time was delicious.

“So,” he said as they ate, “how are things in the analyst pool, making any progress?”

“Mostly just prepping the recon mission,” she said between bites. “We should be good to send them off tomorrow.”

“Clint’s going right?” he asked.

“Yeah, him and Natasha,” she responded.

“Well,” he said, “hopefully it will be a short one. “

“Should be,” she said without much concern. It wasn’t the sort of thing that was likely to even make the two assassins’ list of ‘dangerous things I have done this week.’ “I’m mostly worried about getting behind in my training with Natasha.”

“Hmmm,” Bruce mad a noise of acknowledgement. “And how’re you doing with all of this? Being involved in tracking this guy down, I mean.” He spoke casually, but there was a searching look in his eyes.

“It’s fine.” She said, a little shortly. “It’s better, really, than just sitting around being helpless and useless. Natasha is helping with that too. I certainly feel less helpless than I did when I showed up here.”

“A bit of an understatement, I think,” said Bruce, “I think you’re incredibly brave.” His tone was serious, and he was looking at her with a depth in his eyes that she wasn’t used to seeing, it made her nervous…uncomfortable…intrigued. She cast her eyes down.

“I can’t help what happened to me.” She said finally, “But I just want to do the best I can with the hand I’ve been dealt, you know?”

He smiled at her, “yeah,” he said, “Yeah I do.”

+

+

She was having a really _long_ day. Clint and Natasha had been and returned from their mission. They were only gone three days, but had managed to bring back a mountain of information, so now she was flooded with intensely detailed sit reps that she had to make sense of before she could get out of the office. The mission had given them lots of valuable information about the General’s operation and personnel, but still no indication of where he might be hiding.

It was after seven before she put the last report in the “finished” pile and emailed her analysis to Fury.

And then, all of a sudden, Bruce burst into her office, looking panicked. He slammed the door behind him.

“Uh, hi?” it was more question than greeting.

“You have to hide me” he said, his head hitting the wall behind him as he let it fall back, closing his eyes tightly. Darcy wondered if he knew that the whole “I can’t see you, you can’t see me” thing didn’t really work.

“Hide you from who?” Darcy was mildly concerned. Panicked hiding in an organisation full of spies could get pretty serious. Plus, while she had seen Bruce frustrated a lot, she had never seen him this tense. It was pretty unnerving.

“Oh not…” he looked at her quickly, “Nothing dangerous, it’s just…” he let out a breath “ _She’s_ here”

“Is this some sort of riddle?” Darcy asked.

“Betty Ross,” he closed his eyes again. “My ex, who left me. And then I ran away to India.”

Bruce had never spoken to Darcy about Betty, which didn’t exactly say “over it.” The thought gave her a little twinge.

“Oh,” she said, “well by all means hide then, but at least sit down.”

He sat down heavily into the chair on the other side of her desk.

“What is she doing here?” asked Darcy carefully.

“I don’t know really, I just came to see if you needed a ride because I’m heading to Tony’s lab, and she was down at the end of the hall, talking to the science advisor.”

“Well,” said Darcy, watching for Bruce’s reaction closely, “I did hear that they were looking to add a few more brains to the pool.”

“Makes sense,” Bruce said listlessly, “she is a brilliant physicist, and the universe does hate me.”

He sounded so defeated, and he was her friend, so Darcy made a plan.

It probably wasn’t her best plan ever, but Natasha was enforcing on her the importance of taking action, and the value of first instincts.

“Can’t help you with the whole physicist / universe thing” she said, “but I can help you get out of here with your dignity intact in exchange for that ride.”

“You sound so positive that I almost believe you” said Bruce with a wan smile.

“Oh Bruce,” she said gleefully, “You just need to have a little faith” she started unbuttoning her top “and to turn your back.”

“I…um…what?” Bruce was flushing in an endearing manner. She just circled her finger, motioning for him to turn.

When he had, she quickly changed out of her sensible sweater set and into a low cut green silk wrap top she kept in her desk. She pulled her hair out of its sloppy bun, leaving it in loose waves. She swiped on some red lipstick and dabbed a bit of perfume at her wrists. “Okay, you can turn around” she said, ditching her flats and slipping into black stilettos.

Bruce looked stunned, but then Bruce often looked a bit stunned. “How did you _do_ that?” he asked incredulously. “You look…”

“Like a sexretary?” said Darcy with a grin. “Pepper is teaching me to be constantly prepared; Natasha is trying to teach me that my body is a weapon. Some of it sticks sometimes.”

Bruce opened and closed him mouth a few times before finally saying “I guess so” in a deeply impressed tone.

“Okay, so here’s the plan” she said feeling a bit of a flush creep up her neck at his frank appraisal and quickly tamping down the awkwardness that was creeping up on her. “You walk out of here with the closest approximation to eye candy in the general area, very politely say hello to this chick, I’ll hang off your arm like a leach, you’ll pretend you like it, and then we flounce off.”

“You’re a little bit evil, aren’t you” asked Bruce. It sounded a lot like a compliment.

+

+

The minute Darcy linked her arm through Bruce’s and walk out the door, she knew she had made a big mistake.

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t aware that Bruce was an attractive man. I mean, Eye Candy, remember? But she spent a lot of time with attractive men these days. And the whole “other guy” thing had made him a bit untouchable in her eyes, and while she would hazard a guess that she might be Bruce’s closest friend here (with the possible exception of Tony), they weren’t exactly _close_. Not like she and Clint were, not like Jane. And she had a rule about SHIELD agents. So she had never really spent any time thinking about Bruce as anything other than a friend.

She also, now that she thought about it, never really _touched_ him.

It meant that she had never noticed that he really was quite a bit taller than her. Even in heels, her chin was just about at the right height to rest on his shoulder. She had never noticed how well they fit together, with her hand around his arm and her hips pressed just below his, their shoulders brushing as they walked. She hadn’t noticed the way the curve of his biceps felt against her fingers, or the way the strong lines of his forearms flexed under the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

She had certainly never noticed that it felt like lightening when they touched, tugging at something deeper than just attraction, because she _had_ noticed that Bruce was one of the best men she had ever known. 

Her mouth went dry. It felt like trouble.

She looked up at him and found that he was looking back at her. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes, but it was something…intense.

They drew to a stop in the hallway, and he still wasn’t looking away from her.

And somewhere in that moment, it was like all the walls she had built up around her when this whole thing started, which she had been slowly taking down, brick by brick, just fell away. And she could _see_ Bruce, like he had gone from black and white to color.  And she felt herself pulled towards him, a hook low her belly that made her want to reach out and touch him, to taste his lips and hear him say her name. And it didn’t scare her at all, and she opened her mouth to _say_ something, to take a step forward and…

“Bruce?” the moment ended as abruptly as it had begun. Betty Ross was walking towards them.

“Betty,” and all of a sudden, Darcy just wanted to run away. She was pretty sure no man, certainly not Bruce, had ever felt strongly enough about her to say her name like that. She’d never heard Bruce sound so raw.

But there was a plan, and Darcy was turning herself into a good solider.

“Hi,” she said brightly after an awkward silence, “I’m Darcy,” she dropped Bruce’s arm to hold out her hand.

“You must be Betty, I’ve heard so much about you.” She leaned into Bruce for effect, but she felt herself shrinking. Betty was tall and willowy and beautiful in a way that Darcy could never hope to achieve. Darcy didn’t want to be Bruce’s sexretary. She wanted suddenly to be a woman of substance; she wanted to be his _Betty_. She shook the though away.

“Hi,” said Betty, quite shortly, shaking her hand firmly. “So you’re Bruce’s…secretary?” it was a rather calculating thing to say, and exactly what Darcy probably would have done, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“Not exactly,” she said crisply.

“Darcy is one of SHIELD’s best analysts.” Said Bruce, mildly disapprovingly, and putting his arm around her. She knew he was just playing according to the plan, but she told her brain to shut up for, like, five minutes and melted into him a bit, looking up at him with a smile.

 “So what…uh, what are you doing here?” Bruce asked, turning his attention back to Betty, obviously.

“They want me in the science department” she said somewhat nervously, “but I didn’t know you actually _worked_ here.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Bruce, “you should take the job. We could use you.”

Betty looked at Darcy. “Maybe,” she said finally “I’ve got a few meetings tomorrow before I decide.”

“Well, I’ll be in my lab, if you want to stop by,” said Bruce hesitantly.

Betty smiled a little, and damn her for being so beautiful when she did it “Yeah, I might do that.” Darcy couldn’t help but feel like it was directed at her.

“Right, well we should…” he looked at Darcy.

“Yeah,” said Darcy. “Well it was lovely to meet you Betty.”

Betty barely nodded at her. “Bruce,” she said. They had a bit of a tortured glance, and then she was gone.

“Well,” said Darcy, slipping out from under Bruce’s arm, her cheeks hot, “that could have gone worse, right?”

“Could have gone a lot worse.” Darcy couldn’t place the look on his face.

“So how do you rate my super spy skills?” she said lightly, “Good enough to get a ride home?”

“You were,” he paused, “very believable.”

An awkward silence settled over them as they walked to Bruce’s car. Finally, once they were on their way, Bruce broke the silence.

“So you had a good birthday?” he said.

“The best,” she said, “Tony can really throw a party. I wish you’d stayed later.”

Bruce seemed to ignore her. “Clint seemed pretty…enthusiastic about it as well.” His eyes were focused straight ahead on the road.

“Well I’ve got to let him spoil me every once in a while.” She said with a grin “otherwise he keeps showing up at work.”

“You two are…pretty close then?”

“Well yeah,” said Darcy. Bruce sounded a bit…odd. Everyone knew that Clint had effectively adopted her, didn’t they?

“That’s…that’s good.”

Darcy had no idea how to dispel these creeping awkwards, so she just dove in.

“So you and Betty huh?” she tried to keep her tone light. “She’s pretty” probably the biggest understatement ever.

“Yeah,” said Bruce “It’s not an episode in my life that I handled very well.” He said, “I hope she stays. I’d like to make things better between us.”

Apparently Darcy was a glutton for punishment. “Hey, operation “fix-it” can be implemented tomorrow,” she said with just a bit too much cheerfulness, but Bruce didn’t seem to notice.

Of course he wanted to get back together with Betty. Of course he hadn’t felt what she did when they touched.

She was a stupid, stupid, silly girl.

She all but dashed away from the car when they pulled up. It didn’t take her long to find Jane. She was lying on the couch with Thor, who looked bewildered when Darcy grabbed Jane’s arm and pulled her from the couch.

“Girl talk,” she said “now.”

“Darcy,” Thor boomed, “you seem upset, Can I be of service? I’d be happy to have words with whoever has upset you.”

“That’s really sweet Thor, but _not_ a good idea. I just need Jane.”

“Then I shall not keep her from you.”

+

+

 “Betty Fucking Ross,” said Darcy

“Betty Fucking Ross?” Jane was at a loss on this one.

“Bruce’s Betty Fucking Ross.”

“She’s here?” asked Jane

“She’s taking a _job_ here and you will probably meet her and then she will replace me as your friend and be you’ll be maid of honor at their wedding while I cry in the corner.”

“Okay,” said Jane carefully, “first off, you will never be replaced, and second…you’d have a problem with Bruce marrying her? I thought she was sort of his long lost love or something.”

Darcy let out a huff “Yeah, I have a problem with Bruce marrying her because it turns out that I might have this _giant_ crush on Bruce that I didn’t even know about until today when I was trying to help him with the whole Betty situation and we _touched_ and I just about spontaneously combusted.”

“Aha!!” said Jane triumphantly, “I _knew_ you had _feelings_ for him.”

“Yes yes, you were right, I was wrong. I was letting the whole hulk thing and my whole post-traumatic stress thing get in the way of what I was really feeling blah blah blah you’re a genius. Can we get back to the _point_ here? Now he wants to fix things with Betty Fucking Ross and I said I’d _help_ him.”

“Oh boy,” said Jane, all semblance of triumph leaving her.

“Yep,” said Darcy morosely.

“Tequila?” asked Jane.

“I’ll go get it.”

+

+

She walked through her room into the hall to head for the kitchen when she heard raised voices from the stairwell leading to Tony’s lab.

She followed them, and found a bizarre and frightening tableau.

Tasha was standing there at full battle readiness, her shirt untucked and hair mussed. Clint was in a similar state, but she didn’t have much time to process that because Bruce was _yelling_ at Clint. Not the exasperated tone he used when lab assistants _totally accidentally_ broke things or when the ladies from finance called and Darcy couldn’t answer the phone in time, but full out, red faced, guttural anger.

“How _dare_ you treat her like this,” he was coiled tight, Darcy could see the tension in his shoulders.

Clint saw her as she rounded the corner. “Darcy, get out of here. Get Tony _now_.”

Bruce lunged at him, throwing him up against the wall “Don’t you even _look_ at her you piece of shit.”

Darcy froze, heart in her throat, panic slamming into her like a tidal wave. She could see a faint greenish tinge creeping up Bruce’s neck. And she couldn’t move.


	7. Build Your Walls

"Press my nose up to the glass around your heart.  
I should have known I was weaker from the start.  
You'll build your walls and I'll play my bloody part.

To tear, tear them down"

\- Mumford and Sons (Babel)

 

She walked through her room into the hall to head for the kitchen when she heard raised voices from the stairwell leading to Tony’s lab.

She followed them, and found a bizarre and frightening tableau.

Tasha was standing there at full battle readiness, her shirt untucked and hair mussed. Clint was in a similar state, but she didn’t have much time to process that because Bruce was _yelling_ at Clint. Not the exasperated tone he used when lab assistants _totally accidentally_ broke things or when the ladies from finance called and Darcy couldn’t answer the phone in time, but full out, red faced, guttural anger.

“How _dare_ you treat her like this,” he was coiled tight, Darcy could see the tension in his shoulders.

Clint saw her as she rounded the corner. “Darcy, get out of here. Get Tony _now_.”

Bruce lunged at him, throwing him up against the wall “Don’t you even _look_ at her you piece of shit.”

Darcy froze, heart in her throat, panic slamming into her like a tidal wave. She could see a faint greenish tinge creeping up Bruce’s neck. And she couldn’t move.

 “Jarvis,” said Darcy in a level voice, even though she could feel the terror and adrenaline coursing through her like fire. “Tell Tony to suit up and get here right now.”

She took two steps closer, and oh Christ what was she doing.  “Bruce,” he was breathing heavily, but Darcy could still see that it was _him_ behind his wide, rage darkened eyes. “We’re going to clear this up, whatever happened. Just come over here and stand with me. Tony’s coming. He’ll take you to containment, okay?” Did she really just ask angry Bruce Banner to come _closer_ to her? She could see Natasha out of the corner of her eye giving her a look that clearly communicated _what the FUCK Darcy_.

“Get out of here Darcy” Bruce ground out without looking at her, but he also took a step back from Clint, and she could feel the tension in the room dip just a notch. So she barrelled right ahead.

“No,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel “Not going to happen until everyone gets out of here safely. You just have to keep it together until Tony gets here, and you’re mad at Clint, not me right?”

He turned to face her, “Darcy…” she could see the anguish and rage in his face.

“You’ve got this,” she said, making eye contact way her Dad did with the wildest of the horses, and using the same steady voice. “You’ve got it.”

Tony crashed through a window, grabbed Bruce by the waist before he could say a word, and they were gone.

For a moment all three of them stood there in stillness, like all the air had rushed out of the room.

Darcy let out a big breath and sat down hard on the floor. She was shaking.

Clint shook himself off and turned to them. “Everyone okay?”

Natasha nodded shortly.

“Darcy,” Clint came over and crouched beside her, “How’re you doing.”

She looked down at her hands, they were shaking. But she was still breathing, she hadn’t barfed, and no one had been hurt, so that was a pretty good result right?

“Fine,” she said, “I’m fine.”

“Stupid is what you are,” said Natasha hotly, “I can’t believe you would put yourself into that kind of danger unnecessarily. What have I been telling you about assessing the situation first and only getting involved if you can help?” Her voice was harsh, but Darcy knew by now that it was because she cared.

She stood up and grabbed her hand, “Hey, I’m fine. I did assess. He was mad at you guys, not me. I thought if he focused his attention on me, it would give Tony enough time, and it did. I had a plan, I promise.” Natasha squeezed her hand before dropping in but didn’t look very convinced.

“What exactly was going on with that anyways?” Darcy said, looking to Clint.

He looked to Natasha, who gave a tiny nod, and then back to her.

“Darce, is it possible that Bruce thinks you and I are dating?”

“What?” to say she was surprised at the direction the conversation had just taken was an understatement. “Why would he…” she paused, thinking back to their conversation in the car earlier, and the office gossip floating around. “Wait, actually yeah. I guess it’s possible…”

“Well he came up from the lab and saw Natasha and I…” he trailed off uncomfortably.

She put a hand up “I don’t want to hear any details you’ll have to kill me over later.” She knew Clint and Natasha were intensely private people, and they didn’t look like they were exactly ready to start picking out china patterns and making public announcements.

Plus, she had enough drama on her plate at the moment.

 “So he freaked out because he thought you were cheating on me.” Bruce _really_ needed to start spending more time with the team and less time listening to office gossip if he could legitimately read the situation that poorly. Did he seriously have that poor of a read on _her_?

“To be fair,” said Clint, “I’m pretty sure I would feel like smashing if I caught someone screwing around on you.”

“That’s touching,” said Darcy dryly, “but I would like to think you would _ask_ before attacking.” She was irrationally angry. Bruce’s reaction was over protective and not necessary, but it also was getting all wrapped up in her confused feelings about him and was coming out as something like _how dare he?_

How _dare_ he be in love with someone else and then judge what he thinks I’m doing with my love life?

_How dare he love someone else?_

Tony flew back in, immediately pulling back his helmet “Everyone alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Darcy, “total misunderstanding.” She paused, “Did Bruce…”

“No” said Tony, “a little green around the gills, but locked up safe as houses in physicist format.”

“I need to talk to him,” said Darcy, “pretty sure I can clear this up so he doesn’t have to spend the night there.”

“He’s a big boy kiddo,” said Tony, “he can handle it. Don’t put yourself through that. He can be kind of nasty in this mood.”

“Let me rephrase that” said Darcy, now that the danger was passed, the adrenaline was still making her blood boil. “I want to go yell at him for being an idiot while he’s behind adamantine reinforced glass.”

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Said Tony with a grin, carefully picking her up. “Hold on tight kid.”

+

+

Tony dropped her right in front of containment, way out in the woods behind SHIELD.

“I could pretend I was going to run some calibrations or something” he said “but I just really don’t want to get involved in any of…whatever the hell this is.” He tossed her an ironic little salute and took off.

Bruce stood the minute Tony dropped her. He walked towards the glass as Tony left.

“You okay?” he looked very…Bruce at that moment.

“I’m not seeing Clint” she said without preamble, crossing her arms. “I never have been. I never will be. And you’ve probably permanently derailed what he was trying to build with Natasha.” Her voice was harsh, because that’s the only way she could figure to keep it from breaking.

“Darcy,” he put a hand against the glass. Darcy took a step back. Because she was _angry_ and confused and she didn’t want to look into his eyes and melt right now.

Bruce looked down. “I’m so sorry Darcy.”

“Save it,” she said sharply, finding it almost intolerable to have his _kindness_ when she wanted so much more. Or maybe she did. Could she seriously want something when he had just shown her that he didn’t really know her _at all_? And after she had just had a close encounter with what Bruce was like on a bad day? She wanted time to _think_ without his presence crowding her.  “It’s Clint you should be apologising to. I just didn’t want you to have to spend the night here.”

He looked up at her, the look in his eyes making her insides twist.

“Okay,” she said, “okay. I’m going now.” She turned and started walking away, knowing Tony would find her soon. She heard him call her name once, but she didn’t turn.

+

+

“Darcy!” Jane fairly tackled her as she entered her room, hugging her tightly, “Don’t you _scare_ me like that again!”

And because the adrenaline was seeping out of her system and it was all over, she flopped down on the couch with a bit of a whimper and collapsed against Jane’s shoulder.

“So,” said Jane after a moment, “big drama?”

“ _Big_ drama,” agreed Darcy with a sort of strangled laugh, “The biggest.”

“Start from the beginning,” said Jane, in her ‘I’m going to analyse the _shit_ out of this’ tone. “What happened today with Bruce? Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I don’t think it was all that sudden really,” Darcy slid onto the ground, leaning against the cushions. Jane sprawled on the couch and stroked her hair as she spoke, “I think it’s been kind of sneaking up on me gradually, and I just…I wasn’t ready to feel this way about anyone. God, Jane I don’t think I’ve _ever_ felt this way about anyone before. I don’t even know what I’m feeling. It’s like every time I look at him there’s a meat hook in my gut.”

“That’s…graphic,” said Jane with a moue of distaste, “but I get what you’re saying. You have that gut feeling thing. The one that makes you want him to throw you down on the lab bench and have his way with you.”

“Yeah, and just, like, sit around on Sunday afternoon with him, drinking tea and touching his hair.” Said Darcy with a little sigh.

“So why not just tell him that?” said Jane sensibly.

“Because it’s not that _simple_ ,” said Darcy. “I just got a really intense technicolor reminder that being involved in Bruce’s life can be complicated and _scary_. And I’m not saying that it wouldn’t be worth the complication, but it’s not something to just jump into for the sex. I mean, that whole meat hook in the gut feeling means that he has all this power to hurt me, you know? And,” she went on, “there’s the whole ‘he’s in love with Betty’ thing. And even if he wasn’t, there’s no way he’d want _me._ I mean have you _seen_ Betty Ross? She’s, like, perfect. Also, I’m kind of really mad that he could possibly think Clint would two time me and I’d allow it.” That had escalated into ranting pretty quickly, even for her.

“Whoa, what now? How did Clint get dragged into this?” Jane sounded surprised.

“He didn’t tell you?” Darcy tilted her head back to look at Jane.

“No, Jarvis locked down all the doors and called a code green. I came up here as soon as he gave the all clear.”

“Oh,” said Darcy letting out her breath in a huff, “Look, this is all totally secret, like, not even Thor secret okay?”

Jane mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“Bruce saw Natasha and Clint…making out or something,” said Darcy

“Ooooh, seriously? That is so…” Darcy glared at Jane, “not the point of the story, go on.”

“The point is that apparently he knows so little about me that he actually bought the weird office gossip that Clint and I were an item and thought it was somehow _his_ job to get mad about what he thought was Clint stepping out on me.”

“So the thought of you being mistreated by another guy got him so angry that he turned against his teammate?” said Jane in a pointed tone, eyebrows somewhere near her hairline.

“Yeah, and what is the _deal_ with that when he’s in love with another woman?” Darcy let her head fall back against the couch, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on, or a good therapeutic cry, she wasn’t sure which yet.

“Oh Darce,” said Jane, “You have no clue do you?”

“About what?”

“The way he _looks_ at you …I don’t know what the deal with Betty Ross is, but I think you should say something. I think you should take some time to process what you’re feeling for him, and then _tell_ him. I mean, what do you have to lose?”

“One of the best friends I’ve ever had?” said Darcy morosely, “which is almost certainly what would happen.”

Jane sighed, “Well, whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you right?”

She reached up and grabbed her friend’s hand. “Thanks.”

+

+

She didn’t really know if Bruce would show up for their run the next day, and she seriously thought about rolling over and covering her head with her pillow when her alarm went off. But she didn’t want to hide from Bruce, not if anything could be salvaged from this mess. Regardless of what she might or might not be feeling about him, and how angry and frustrated she might be with the whole situation, he was still her friend. She pulled on her running gear and went down to the track.

He wasn’t there. She waited a few minutes. The morning was foggy and silent. Nothing was moving, like the whole world was holding its breath. After 15, she set off on the trail. The tears had stopped by the time she hit the hill.

As she came around the last bend, she saw a figure standing by the bench, and her heart lurched into her throat. She slowed to a walk and approached him cautiously. She felt like she would rather be facing a squadron of armed Hyrda agents than this situation.

Bruce looked tired. His eyes were red and his clothes looked crumpled and slept in.

“Hi,” she said warily.

“Hi.” He sounded sad. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…I just came to tell you that I’ll start running at another time. And I can find other lab space. I don’t…I never meant to scare you. And I won’t do it again.” He sounded so determined.

“Scare me?” Darcy was incredulous, and a little indignant. Didn’t he really think so little of her as that? And also, indignant was a lot easier than weepy. “I’m not _scared_ of you Bruce, I am _mad_ at you!” she punctuated her statement by pushing him firmly with both hands.

“Mad at me?”

“You’re goddam right mad,” she said. He winced.

“How _dare_ you think that Clint would do something like that to me! And how _dare_ you think that I would let him. I don’t need you to defend my honor.”

Bruce almost _smiled_.

“Is this _funny?_ ” she yelled.

“No,” said Bruce carefully, “it’s just…you’re not scared of me, and you’re mad because you thought I was defending your honor?” he ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit bewildered.

“ _And_ because you thought Clint would ever cheat on me…” Darcy was running out of steam, because she _was_ mad about those things, but that wasn’t really the root of it.

“But you’re not dating Clint,” Bruce confirmed quickly.

“No, I’m not.”

“And I didn’t scare you? Darcy, you _should_ be scared…” And she _hated_ that look in his eyes. The meat hook in her gut gave a painful little tug in his direction.

“Yeah, okay the situation was scary Bruce. But we handled it didn’t we? And you had it under control. I _trust_ you Bruce. So unless you’re telling me I need to be scared standing here with you right now, I’m just going to go out on a limb and call you an idiot.” She glared at him, her arms firmly crossed.

“You….” Bruce goggled at her for a minute, “You’re kind of amazing Darcy Lewis.”

And she couldn’t be mad at him, goddam him and his floppy hair and crinkly eyes. And she didn’t _want_ to be.

“I try some days,” she said tightly, her posture relaxing slightly. “And next time, can we please not go through all this self-sacrificing bullshit?” She said, firmly ignoring the fact that she desperately wanted to reach out and touch him. “Start with extravagant apologies, not this running away crap, okay?”

“Next time? Darcy, I don’t _ever_ want you to be around for…”

Darcy waived a dismissive hand, “Yes, yes, in an ideal world, of course. But the other guy is part of you Bruce, and _I’m_ not going to run away every time I get reminded of it.” Because if nothing else, Darcy had discovered through this whole mess that Bruce’s big green issue didn’t make her feel anything less for him.

Bruce gave her a bit of an incredulous smile, “It’s very hard to say no to you, you know.”

“You wait until Tasha teaches me some of her crazy krav maga moves.” Darcy said, the tiniest smile curling the corner of her lips.

“Terrifying,” Bruce deadpanned.

“Now go shower and change and get down to the lab,” Darcy said, firmly tamping down the warm fuzzies creeping up her stomach, “Betty will be down to visit you at some point this morning and you don’t want to look like…well like you do right now.”

“Yeah, yeah alright,” he said taking a step back, “Darcy…” he paused, looking up at her under a slightly furrowed brow, “I know that saying I’m sorry is completely inadequate, but I am...sorry I mean.”

“Bruce,” she stepped towards him, unable to resist reaching out to put a hand on his arm. “You are not the incredible burden you seem to think you are,” she said. “This may come as a huge shock to you, but I actually _like_ having you around.” Understatement of the decade. “Now go,” she gave him a little shove before she could dig herself in any deeper here, “shower, find Betty.”

“Right…right,” said Bruce with a distracted little smile as she shooed him away. He turned back to her over his shoulder as he went, looking as unburdened as she had seen him in a while.

Darcy made a decision then.

If Betty Ross was going to make Bruce happy, then she was going to damn well swallow her feelings, potentially along with a lot of ice cream and tequila, and help him be happy. Because more than anything, she wanted to chase away that part of him that felt like he wasn’t good enough.

+

+

She had her first opportunity to intervene later in the day when Betty Ross walked into the lab as they were sitting around having lunch.

“Oh,” she said as she walked in, flushing and giving Darcy an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m interrupting. I’ll just…”

“No!” said Darcy jumping up, “Uh, no. We’re just finishing. And actually Jane and I need to run out for…poptarts. We…really like poptarts.” Oh god, she was babbling. Bruce was giving her a curious expression. “You stay, talk with Bruce.”

She hustled Jane out of the lab and left Bruce looking after her with furrowed brows.

And later that day, Bruce talked about what Betty was working on and how much she’d add to the science division, and Darcy felt like throwing up.

So when she ran into Jim in the hallway, she was in a particularly vulnerable place.

“Hey Darcy,” he was bright and chipper as ever.

“Hi Jim,” she paused to talk to him.

“I like your shoes,” he said. Darcy had worn her bulletproof Manolos today, because they gave her confidence.

“Thanks,” because it was nice to be complimented.

“I…” he paused, straightening his glasses, “Look, I realise this is a long shot, but I was wondering what you were up to this weekend.”

And because she was feeling low, and unrequited crushes were the harbingers of almost all of her worst life decisions, she told him “Well, I usually run in the Park on Sunday mornings, but I could meet for a coffee after that.”

A smile spread across Jim’s face. “That sounds perfect.”

+

+

The next afternoon in the lab, Darcy somewhat ruefully had to tell Jane that she couldn’t go shopping with her on Sunday afternoon, because she was meeting Jim for coffee.

“You’re _what!_ ” Jane screeched. Bruce looked up from his bench.

“I’mmeetingJimforcoffee,” she mumbled, hoping Bruce wouldn’t hear.

“YOU’RE MEETING _JIM_ FOR _COFFEE?_ ” Well, there went that pipe dream. Bruce immediately turned his attention back to his bench without making a comment.

 _Say the word Bruce_ , she thought at him as hard _as she could, one word and I won’t go_. He studiously avoided looking over to Jane’s side of the lab.

Darcy threw her hand up in despair, “Yes Jane, okay? Yes I am.”

“Well I think that’s dumb.” Said Jane with brusque finality, and wouldn’t talk to Darcy all afternoon.

+

+

She was window shopping on Sunday afternoon, killing time and dreading her date with Jim, when it happened. She was listening to music, her ipod earphones plugged in. Mistake number one.

She didn’t hear anyone approach her until she felt something stab into her upper arm as someone brushed past her. She immediately felt…blurry. She was vaguely aware of being shoved into a car before she blacked out.

And NYC went on about its business.


	8. Slow Road to Freedom

"All the hour there's a picture in a mirror   
Fancy shoes to grace our feet   
All there is is a slow road to freedom   
 Heaven above and the devil beneath."

 - Old Crow Medicine Show (We're All in this Together)

 

 

The room she came to in wasn’t a warehouse this time. In fact, it seemed a bit…purpose built.

Idiot.

Had he really brought a girl who would have the Avengers out in force to his _secret lair_?

And then she remembered that Thor was dealing with business in Asgard. He must think he was prepared to take out the rest and be banking on getting it done before Thor could get back.  Or he planned to close the bi-frost before he could. Panic settled deep in Darcy’s belly.

Fat chance of that. Like she was going to talk _now_ when it would mean the end of everything and everyone she held dear.

She took a slow breath, she could do this. She thought back to Natasha’s lessons.

_Make a careful inventory. What’s going for you, what’s against you?_

Well, she was uninjured, that was a plus. She was in her comfortable running clothes, also a plus. Whatever they had drugged her with hadn’t left her too fuzzy.

On the downside, she seemed to be tied to a heavy duty table that bore some resemblance to an OR set up, with heavy canvass straps. She tugged at them experimentally. No dice. She has gotten stronger, but not that strong. Her cell was not in the waist pocket of her leggings, so she was probably not going to be traced quickly. Oh. And the door was opening.

“Miss Lewis” the voice sent a shiver of dread right down her spine.

 _So what if there’s nothing I_ can _do_?

_Stay alive until we show up to kick some ass._

Okay, so that was the plan.

“Nice to see you again,” she said pleasantly “I like the new place.”

“Don’t try to play hero with me, Miss Lewis. I know you’ve been spending time with Avengers. Almost like a little pet, but that’s not going to help you now. In fact,” he smiled disconcertingly at her, “it is going to help _me._ The Avengers will die as they try to rescue you and there will be no escape for any of you unless you give me what I want.” The General seemed like he had maybe gotten a little… unhinged in the months since she had last been in this position.

“Seriously? You think you’re going to kill the Avengers? Better villains than you have tried and died buddy.” He didn’t react. Just walked over to a large screen on the wall in front of her and turned it on.

It was split into four different images, each showing an exterior shot of what was presumably the building they were in.

“I’ve sent them your location Miss Lewis, and they are rushing to save you. You know, it was a bit of a problem for me, how I would get them to come to a location of my choosing, all at once, heedless and headfirst.” His smile was chilling. “But you fixed that for me, didn’t you? How do you feel, knowing you will cause their deaths?” There was a note of hysteria in there.

She didn’t answer. Her mouth felt dry.

He walked over to a counter and came back towards her, placing two syringes on the small table beside her.

“Finally learned to be quiet?” he asked cuttingly, “Sadly for your friends, you will talk to me, and you will give me the information I need. Thor will never be coming back to Midgard.” He picked up the first needle and roughly shoved it into her arm. She barely flinched.

“This is a chemical compound not unlike MDMA.” He said clinically as he pushed down the plunger. “It is going to make you feel relaxed and more like sharing.” He picked up the other syringe and repeated the process. “And this is sodium pentathol.” He said “while each on their own can be resisted, I have found the two used together to be quite effective.”

Darcy could already feel a loosening spread through her limbs and her panic started to fade away. It wasn’t as if she stopped being aware of what was going on, it just seemed like it wasn’t such a big deal.

At that point, she saw a chopper drop just inside the frame of one shot and two figures jumped out before it flew off. She could make out the Captain and Bruce. Bruce, even in the poor quality shot, seemed to be heaving with the effort of staying in control. Just then, Tony flew up and landed next to them. She didn’t see Natasha or Clint, and opened her mouth to remark on it conversationally, when the General said “Good, a full complement” and she remembered hazily that she wasn’t supposed to talk to him.

“Now here is what is going to happen, Miss Lewis” he said, “You are going to watch your friends die unless you tell me what I need to know to close the bi-frost. Once you tell me, I will simply capture them. I am willing to send them to Asgard before I close the bridge.”

Darcy felt an overwhelming urge to speak. But she knew she couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, so she just started talking. “You’re a bad liar” she said, “and you still have coffee breath. Also, did you know that there are other colors than black to wear. I think you’d actually look quite fetching in red.”

“The bi-frost Miss Lewis,” he said sharply, “tell me or they die.”

She was starting to sweat, her panic seeping through the drugs. She bit her lip and tasted blood. “I won’t I won’t I won’t I won’t” she started chanting to herself.

“Then I will” he said, and hit a button on a small remote.

She watched as Cap’s shield and _all_ of Tony fell to the ground without so much as a bounce.

“Super magnets” he said, quite proudly, “and it will kill Tony Stark over the next 30 minutes or so. His suit will start to buckle in on itself, crushing him to death bit by bit.”

Darcy started to cry softly.

Then she watched as the Captain ran forward towards the building. About two meters away, he was abruptly thrown back as if he had hit a brick wall.

“Anti-organic tech” he said, as if Darcy had asked him how he had accomplished this. “No organic matter will get through.”

Then a sound loud enough that Darcy could hear it from within the building split the air, and Bruce wasn’t there anymore.

The Hulk ran at the building. He was repulsed just as the Captain had been, but he rebounded several meters as if his own force was thrown back against him. The Cap was standing at the shield, pressing against it experimentally with his hands. She could see the Hulk running through the different video frames, throwing himself against the shield in a rage, but getting nowhere.

“Now let’s see how the super soldier stands up to bullets without his shield.” He pressed another button and a barrage of bullets spat from somewhere on the building, throwing the Cap to the ground.

“No!” cried Darcy. But she saw him moving, getting back to his feet.

“Rubber bullets, Miss Lewis.” He sounded gleeful, like this was all good entertainment. “And he will continue to wear himself down throwing himself at them in a vain attempt to get to you until Stark is dead, I turn off the magnets, and fire real bullets. He won’t know to avoid them.”

“no no no no no” she was chanting like a mantra.

“You can stop this Miss Lewis,” he said, “just tell me what I want to know and it all ends.”

“1 x 1 is 1, 1 x 2 is 2.” She started mechanically reciting the times tables to keep her mind way from telling him what he wanted to know. Half of her brain was telling her that everything was cool and she could go ahead and tell him, and the part of her that was holding onto reality was shrinking by the minute.

And then she saw a subtle rustle of a tree branch in one of the angles that showed the top of the roof.

She grinned.

“Oh buddy,” she said, “you are _so_ screwed.”

He looked at her sharply, but his attention was almost immediately pulled back to the screen as three dark blurs flew in front of the camera, there was a flicker, and the Captain was suddenly running directly to the front door of building, shucking off the rubber bullets like water.

Two figures dropped into view of the rooftop camera. Clint gave a cheeky wave and Natasha blew a kiss before she stomped on the camera, leaving a quarter of the screen in static.

“I guess the two totally human members of the Avengers you completely forgot about just brought down your force field.” Said Darcy calmly. The drugs were rapidly permeating her system, and she felt relaxed. “Turns out arrows aren’t organic material.”

The General looked panicked and was rapidly shouting orders into a walkie talkie. Based on the fearful answers, or no answers he was getting, it didn’t sound good.

“This doesn’t sound too good for you, does it?” asked Darcy placidly.

“I will shut you up,” said the General furiously, “if it is the last thing I do.” A booming noise was coming down the hall.

“It just might be,” said Darcy with a grin.

Just then, the wall _exploded_ and the Hulk was standing there. Good lord, he was HUGE.

“Hi,” said Darcy cheerfully.

“Argh,” said the General, as the Hulk casually swatted him against the wall where he lay unconscious.

“ **HULK GET DARCY. HULK GET OUT”** his voice rumbled through her like a bass guitar.

“Good plan,” she said, idly wondering if she would even be scared of him if she weren’t drugged to the gills. He had Bruce’s eyes.

The Hulk ripped the canvass cuffs from their pinions on the table like he was tearing through tissues, picked her up in one big hand, took two running step, and launched himself, back first, through the wall, cradling her against his massive chest like she was a child. They hit the ground with a jarring thud, and then the Hulk took off at a run.

After a solid ten minutes, Darcy was pretty sure they were halfway to Canada and, in any direction, they were likely to run out of rural farmland quickly. So she reached up and put a hand on the heavy, corded neck, which was as far as she could reach. “Hulk?” he slowed, looking at her.

 **“DARCY HURT?** ” he asked, and Darcy thought that maybe he wasn’t as smart as Bruce, and maybe he was a little more violent, but his eyes when he was concerned were the same. The lines of tension in his body, and the current of rage under the question were different though. It was oddly comforting.

“No, Darcy is fine.” She said, “You did good. But you can stop running now. We’re safe.”

 **“SAFE,”** he repeated slowly, “ **HULK TIRED** ”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “I guess you would be. You did lots of good smashing. But you can be done now. You’re done.”

He stopped. **“HULK DO GOOD?** ” He placed her down oddly gently.

“Yeah, really good.”

He let out a loud grunt of satisfaction, prowled around for a moment, then curled up in the grass with a thud and promptly began snoring.

The night was approaching rapidly, and Darcy was getting chilled in her thin running clothes. But she wasn’t concerned, she felt a little drunk, but not wobbly. And just so _good_. She curled up next to the Hulk, his warmth against her back felt like sunlight, and she couldn’t remember ever being so aware of herself.

She wondered idly how long this was going to last, because she was not in a real hurry for this sense of well-being to fade and for the real world to sink back in.

And then the form behind her began to change, retreating from her, she rolled over and sat up, watching cross legged as the Hulk turned back into Bruce. She noticed with some curiosity that the black shorts the Hulk had been wearing contracted with him. She watched, fascinated as the light of the setting sun played across his skin, until he started stirring and sat up with a jolt.

“Darcy?” he looked at her groggily, “Hi Bruce!” she waved at him.

“Are you okay?” he scrambled over to her, running his hands over her arms, presumably checking for injuries, but Darcy _felt_ it like she hadn’t ever felt anything before. She let out a low moan and felt a shiver of desire shoot down her spine to pool low in her belly.

Bruce looked at her sharply, “Did I hurt you? Where does it hurt,”

“Feels _good_ ” she said in a low breathy voice, because one drug meant she couldn’t stop herself and the other one meant she didn’t care, “Touch me Bruce, I want you to touch me.”

“Darcy…” Bruce looked at her with wide eyes, heat creeping up his neck, an odd sort of tension in his voice. And then he grabbed her right arm, a finger brushing over two angry red puncture marks.

Darcy gasped in pleasure and threw her head back.

“Darcy,” said Bruce, letting her arm drop, his voice pained and serious, “I need you to focus. Look at me.”

She lowered her head and faced him, biting a lip. “You have such beautiful eyes,” she said dreamily. She was aware that this was not something she really wanted to be saying out loud, but everything was so _good_ right now that she didn’t care.

“Darcy,” he put his hands on either side of her head. “I need you to tell me what he drugged you with. What effects are you feeling. Are your fingers numb at all?”

She licked her lips, her mouth felt dry. Bruce swallowed heavily.

“MDMA,” she said, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair, “and sodium pentathol. Your hair,” Darcy gave it a little tug and Bruce made this little noise low in his throat “I like your hair.”

Bruce exhaled sharply and stood up, moving a step back from her. “Sodium pentathol makes you more compliant.” He said “MDMA causes feelings of euphoria. It lowers your inhibitions and makes you more…open. It can also make things feel…intense”

Darcy hummed low in her throat. “Intense,” she said “Yeah, that sounds right.” She stood up and took a step towards him, _needing_ to be close to his warmth.

“Darcy,” Bruce sounded strained, “You’re drugged. You’re not thinking clearly. When you get this stuff out of your system, I…I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Bruce,” she took another step, he stepped back again “You _saved_ me. You saved my life. You’re so…” She took another step in, and he didn’t move back this time. “You’re my hero Bruce” her smile felt like it was splitting her face, but she was just so _happy_. She took another step in, putting her hands on Bruce’s chest. It was rising and falling quite rapidly. She ran her fingers up over his pecs, skating the surface of his shoulders, little thrills moving from her fingertips all through her.

He let out a groan, “Darcy, you are _killing_ me”

“Don’t die,” she whispered. She moved in even closer, placing her cheek against his bare shoulder, pressing herself close to him, letting out a little gasp at the sensation. His hands brushed her lower back, and she moaned tilting her pelvis toward him.

“Bruce,” she gasped.

He rocketed away from her, “No.” he said.

“Sorry,” she said unrepentantly, “Your skin is for Betty,” the thought didn’t make her sad though. She could see why people did drugs like this. All the bad in her life was just so far away.

“Betty…” Bruce looked at her in exasperation, “I really wish you wouldn’t help with that.” It didn’t really sound like he was talking to her directly. She couldn’t blame him. She was all over the place right now. She giggled.

“But I want to _help_ ” she said entreating, “you _love_ her. Who am I to stand in the way of _love_ ” she twirled dramatically, the spinning felt _amazing_. She did it again.

“You think...?” Bruce ran a hand through his hair, “I have no idea why I’m having this conversation with you right now, but I am _not_ in love with Betty.” He said. He sounded frustrated.

“Did I make you mad?” she asked, it was like she could _feel_ his sadness in her.

“No,” he said in a patient voice, “It’s just all I want is to patch things up so we can be friends, or at least civil to each other. When you push us towards each other, it just… I mean she’s married.”

“She’s MARRIED?” Darcy exclaimed. She twirled again, because this was all pretty wonderful. “She’s married!”

A loud noise was coming towards them from the sky. She shouted up to it excitedly “She’s married!!!” a figure rappelled down from the helicopter. It was Clint.

“Clint!” she exclaimed loudly as he dropped to the ground and ran over to her. “Clint, did you know she was _married_?” she exclaimed, and threw her arms around him, nuzzling his flak jacket.

She felt him shift his head in Bruce’s direction.

“She’s heavily drugged” said Bruce tightly, “MDMA and sodium pentathol. She’s a bit…uh”

“Bruce won’t touch me,” she said looking up at Clint, “but I want him to, it feels so _good_.” Things were starting to feel a little too much though, and things were spinning even though she wasn’t twirling and her hands were shaking.

“Oh boy,” said Clint, “You are _not_ kidding. Ok Darce, let’s get you home ok?” Clint started walking her towards the sling seat that had been dropped from the helicopter, but her legs had stopped obeying her brain and she felt herself fall against him.

“Darcy?” Bruce called out. He sounded worried. She tried to reassure him that she was _great_. But she didn’t think it came out right. And she thought she was on the ground and everything was a bit…

She thought she heard someone yelling and there were hands on her and then she couldn’t remember any more.

+

+

When she came to, she did _not_ feel great. The room was spinning subtly, and she felt tired and anxious. Also, unlike alcohol, she remembered _everything_ that had happened. She had no idea why people would do this to themselves voluntarily.

It was Bruce sitting beside her bed this time. And oh how she wished it was Jane.

“Darcy?” he straightened from his slumped posture in a chair beside her bed.

She was pretty sure she blushed all the way to the roots of her hair and felt an incredibly strong urge to hide under the sheets.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled.

“Darcy, you okay?” he looked concerned.

“Definitely not,” she said, scrubbing her face with her hands, “but if I die of anything today it’s going to be embarrassment.”

Bruce looked distinctly uncomfortable, “Don’t even think about it,” he said, “You weren’t exactly yourself.”

And Darcy remembered the tone of his voice when he said that she was _killing_ him, and the way his fingers had brushed over her skin when she pressed against him and how Betty was _married._

 She shook it off. Just because Bruce may have wanted to respond when pretty girl was basically throwing herself on him didn’t mean anything other than the fact that he was human.

“What happened?” she asked, changing the subject.

“You had a bad reaction to the drugs in your system,” he said, “The combination of the two, once they had taken full effect, overloaded your neuroreceptors and interrupted the transmission of…”

“English please,” Darcy interrupted.

“Oh, right,” Bruce stumbled, “Uh, you had a seizure?”

“Yes, I do know the meaning of the word seizure,” she said irritably. “Is there going to be any long term effects?”

“No nothing like that.” He reassured her quickly, “You’ll probably feel a bit off your game for a few days, but you’ve been strictly ordered to take the week off work, so just spend a few days lying low and you’ll be fine.”

“And what about the General?” she asked.

Bruce positively beamed. “Locked up in solitary” he said, “And he’ll probably never leave.”

“Good,” said Darcy firmly. “Also, the Hulk smashed him. I’m not sure if you remember that…”

“No,” said Bruce, “I don’t usually remember much of the other guy, but I’m glad he got a good crack in.”

Darcy didn’t think she’d ever heard him sound quite so…savage.

“I didn’t know he could…follow orders like that,” said Darcy, “he sounded like he was on a mission.”

Bruce let out a breath. “It was a bit of a risk, I won’t lie to you” he said, “But we were balancing going in without Thor _and_ the Hulk and the other guy has been working with the team. And…Darcy, I couldn’t… we couldn’t think about anything but getting to you.”

“You did,” said Darcy reaching out and taking his hand, “You know,” she went on, “the other guy really wasn’t all that scary.” And the really weird thing is that she felt like she meant it.

Bruce laughed darkly, “I doubt you’d say that if you hadn’t been drugged six ways from Sunday.”

“I think you’re wrong.” She said stoutly, “underneath it all, he’s still got you at the root of him. And I could never be scared of you Bruce.” Their eyes met for a moment, and then Darcy quickly looked away before she started blurting out friendship ruining declarations.

 And because more than anything she wanted the haze of awkward that had settled around them to dissipate. “You really are my hero,” she tried for a caricature of her drugged, low voice.

Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise and then grinned. “Typical, the one time I get to rescue the girl, the only reason she comes on to me is that she’s drugged to the gills.”

Darcy smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I always knew you guys only did this whole hero gig to get laid.” She said in her most sentimental voice. And Bruce actually opened his mouth and laughed out loud.

The sound drew Jane, who had been just down the hall.

“Darcy!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend, heedless of the expensive hospital equipment, “You’re okay!”

“Yeah, totally fine,” she said with a reassuring smile, “Little bit of kidnapping, little bit of a drug trip, and a country tour courtesy of the Hulk. All in all, not my worst Sunday ever.”

“Darcy,” Thor was next through the door, “This is the second time you have been taken from us. I do not care for it, pray try to avoid it in the future,” he smiled warmly at her with a teasing tone, “or at least wait until I am come home.”

“Yeah,” apparently an assembly had been called, because the rest of the crew walked in behind Tony, “I mean, get kidnapped once, shame on him, but the second time, it’s really just starting to look careless.”

“I’m just glad we could get to you quickly,” said Steve, “you’re really alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, “thanks to you guys. I owe you all my life…again.”

“If you ever pull a stunt like this again,” said Clint from the foot of her bed with crossed arms and a stony glare, “I promise you I will kill you myself.”

“He means,” said Natasha, “That he was very worried for you and he’s glad you’re home safe. We all are.”

Nurse Cheryl kicked them out a little while later, but Clint snuck back in to take up half of the narrow hospital bed, steal the remote from her, and override her movie choices until she fell asleep.

As she was drifting off, she thought that maybe this whole episode should have shaken her a bit more, but she felt firmly intact. And she knew that it was a mark of how they had all changed her life. And how she had changed herself, become someone a bit stronger and a bit tougher. She thought maybe she was a little bit closer to who she wanted to be and what she wanted to do. And even if she was taking the hard road, that had to mean something good.


	9. It's Coming on Christmas

"I wish I had a river so long   
I would teach my feet to fly   
I wish I had a river I could skate away on."

 - Joni Mitchell (The River)

 

Bruce was right. She was not feeling like herself. She was tired, but she couldn’t sleep. Easily irritated, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that she couldn’t seem to be bothered to eat anything. The days spent alone were really long, and often only Jane would come back at night because everyone who had been a part of the mission was going through endless rounds of debriefs and investigations of the building.

And she wasn’t getting her runs with Bruce, as she had been firmly told that she was strictly on bed rest for the week.

Bruce was another part of her general discomfiture. Ever since she had let herself acknowledge that her feelings for Bruce weren’t exactly platonic, she had been struggling to get a hold of her impossible crush. It was easier when she thought she was helping him get back together with Betty. But Betty was _married_ and Bruce knew it, and Bruce said he wasn’t in love with Betty. Or maybe he was, and just knew he couldn’t have her. And he had never said anything that made her think that he might be interested in her. 

It was very frustrating. And she told herself a bit of distance from him was a good thing.

She lasted until Wednesday.

She was lying on the couch in the living room of the empty tower, listlessly flicking through channels, wondering if Bruce had been running without her and if he had been pushing his distance and whether he _liked_ running without her so he could go faster.

She picked up her phone and composed a text message.

<<How was the run this morning?>>

It was only a few seconds before her phone beeped.

<<Lonely. How are you?>>

Darcy felt a warm glow steal through her.

<<Same. Feel like playing hooky?>> because it couldn’t hurt to ask.

<<Yes.>>

It came back almost immediately, and Darcy felt a little thrill that made her smile.

<<Well I could use a couch buddy>> She sent back.

<<Anything you want me to pick up on my way over?>>

+

+

Within a half hour there was a buzz from the elevator and JARVIS politely inquired whether she would like to admit Dr. Bruce Banner. He also managed to convey mild surprise, with just a _hint_ of disapproval.

“Hey,” he said as he walked in, “You’re looking better.”

“Getting back to normal,” she said, gesturing to the couch beside her “I don’t get why people would ever do this to themselves for _fun_.”

“People can be kind of crazy,” Bruce agreed, settling down on the far end of the enormous couch. And Darcy put a tick in her ‘not interested’ column. And then firmly resolved to stop doing that. Bruce was the sort of friend that was worth smothering feelings for if it meant he stuck around.

“So I’ve been exploring Tony’s incredible movie collection,” said Darcy.

Bruce immediately said “Really?” with a raised eyebrow and an almost _lecherous_ grin.

 She rolled her eyes, “Tony is the only one who thinks it’s a good idea to watch porn in the living room.” She said, “You have any _other_ movie preferences?” She picked up the giant and very complex remote and began scrolling through titles.

“Sort of seems like the right day for a trilogy marathon of some kind.” Said Bruce easily, toeing off his shoes and throwing his arms over the back of the couch.

“You have hidden layers Bruce Banner,” said Darcy in surprise, “I felt sure you’d suggest some sort of movie that would _teach_ me something. Possibly about renaissance art…or science.”

“I’m not that boring am I?” said Bruce with a hangdog expression.

“No! Of course not,” said Darcy quickly, before stopping as Bruce grinned at her. “Mean.” She said. “You’re also mean.”

They ended up half watching a sci-fi trilogy, but only got through the second movie because everyone else showed up en mass.

“Halleluiah, halleluiah I am free at last,” cried Clint dramatically as he entered the living room.

“Last of the debriefs?” asked Darcy, from her position curled up against one armrest of the couch.

“I’m pretty sure Fury called it because none of us could stand to sit in a room with that much nervous energy” said Natasha, elbowing Clint. They seemed easier around each other these days. Darcy wondered what it meant.

“Hey Bruce,” said Tony as he walked in, “who invited you?”

Bruce looked as if he was about ready to stand up and leave. Darcy reached a foot out and kicked him. “You’d think you would have been able to figure out when Tony is joking by now.” She said to him. Before glaring at Tony, “Bruce,” she said loyally, “Has been nursing me back to health while you were all off gallivanting about on spy business.”

“I’m glad you’re being taken care of” said Steve sweetly, squeezing her shoulder from behind the couch. She smiled up at him and patted his hand fondly.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re real hard done by kid.” Said Tony, pushing her over to the middle of the couch and taking her seat with a wolfish grin, “Do you know what the street value of those drugs are?”

Bruce quickly pulled a little closer to his end of the couch. Darcy tried to ignore it. “Of course I don’t Tony,” she said. “I’m a _good girl_.” 

And she let herself sink back into the natural rhythm of things in the tower.

+  
+

When Hill called her in the next day, she thought she was going to get an all clear and had already been looking up flights home to see her parents. It was mid-December and all she wanted was to go home for Christmas and pretend like her life was normal for five minutes.

She wasn’t sure that she wanted out of this lifestyle, and she knew she didn’t want to leave these people. But she had ties to her old life she needed to revisit.

Hill wasn’t calling her in to give her the all clear. She could see it in her face the minute she walked in.

“Sit down Lewis,” she said. And Darcy did, because it seemed like kind of a ‘you may want to be sitting down for this’ sort of situation.

“Just tell me what it is,” she said with a resigned sigh.

“The General’s operation hasn’t shut down,” she said. “Some of the individuals and equipment that we have eyes on have gone missing. There’s movement throughout his network.”

“Oh,” said Darcy, glad she was sitting down. “So it’s not over?”

“It gets worse,” said Hill, “We’ve discovered that one of ours, who has since gone AWOL, was a mole for the organisation and may even be running the show now.”

“Who,” said Darcy, with a sinking feeling.

“Jim Reynolds,” said Hill without prevarication. “We think he’s the General’s son. Which means he might have a real vendetta out against you.”

Darcy nodded and listened to the enhanced security protocols she was to follow and did her best to stay afloat until she was dismissed.

She ran down the hall, passing Bruce without a word, slammed into the washroom near the lab, and vomited. Thoroughly.

She heard a quiet knock before Bruce crouched beside her, gently brushing her hair back from her cheeks.

“You alright?” the sincere concern in his eye and the tenderness in his voice just about broke her. She shook her head. He handed her a glass of water which she used to rinse her mouth. “It’s Jim,” she started, before chocking off with a dry sob.

“Jim Reynolds? The Analyst who you were … Did he hurt you?” His hand kept gently stoking at her hair as he spoke, but his eyes were hard.

“He’s…he’s the General’s son, they think. The operation is still running. He’s gone AWOL. Hill suspects he’s going to have it out for me. And…I just…I wanted to be home for Christmas.”

Darcy wanted nothing more than to keep her shit together in front of Bruce, but today just wasn’t her day. She started to cry.

Bruce stood up abruptly, pacing to the sink and gripping the porcelain. “That fucking son of a…” there was a cracking noise that muffled Bruce’s mumbled curses, and the sink fell away from the wall. Darcy looked up sharply with a choking gasp.

In an instant, he was back by her side, gathering her up against his chest. “Shhh, it’s okay. I swear, I’m not going to let him hurt you. I promise you, none of us are going to let him get near you ever again.”

He pulled away, one hand threaded in her hair, looking at her like she was the centre of the universe. “I promise you Darcy,” he said.

She was frozen, the odd little shudder shaking her frame. She reached out and put a hand against his chest. She looked up at him through damp eyelashes. “I know,” she said, hoping he knew how much trust she had in him and how much his words meant to her. “Thank you,” and she let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

It was a long while before either of them thought to go anywhere else

+

+

It was Christmas Eve, and Darcy was sitting in the corner with a mug of eggnog in her hand, feeling almost completely content. If she couldn’t go home for Christmas, this was the next best thing. Tony had really gone all out, as he always did. But he was using his powers for good this time. The tree was beautiful and enormous, even if it had a few too many Iron Man ornaments on it. There were stockings hanging by the fire with each of their names on it. Jarvis was playing holiday music, the fireplace was blazing, eggnog was flowing, and there were presents stacked under the tree.

She was happy to step away from the party for a moment. Clint and Natasha were pulling crackers with an enthusiasm that probably had something to do with the flash-bang and puff of acrid smoke that they gave off. Tony had created a small robot that clung to the ceiling and crawled around with a piece of mistletoe causing havoc. Pepper sat at his arm watching him fondly and pretending to be surprised when it ended up over top of them. A lot. 

Jane and Bruce were trying to explain the Christmas story to Thor, who was having none of it.

“Jane,” he looked at her as if she might have gone crazy, “surely you know that women of your realm cannot conceive if they have not lain with a man.”

 Steve looked like he was doing pretty much the same thing she was. He looked quiet and content. And he was sketching.

Bruce must have had enough of Jane and Thor talking about immaculate conception, because he was headed her way.

“Hey,” he said, sitting beside her, “Everything good?”

“Everything’s good” she said smiling at him. “I’m just sitting out, feeling the glow for a minute.”

“Tony’s threatening to start a Charlie Brown Christmas drinking game,” said Bruce dryly, “so enjoy it while you can.” He paused for a minute. “I got you something,” he said “And I sort of wanted to see you open it. Since I’m not going to be here tomorrow morning….”

“You’re not staying over?” asked Darcy, she had just assumed…

“Can’t,” he said, “I’ve got to head out on this recon tomorrow.”

Darcy knew he had been called out for a mission, “but can’t you leave in the afternoon?”

“SHIELD didn’t seem very concerned with my holiday plans” he said with a shrug.

“Duty calls, I suppose,” said Darcy. “Now you were telling me about presents?”

Bruce grinned at her, “Yes. It’s nice to know how easily distracted you are from my hardships.”

“Gimme,” said Darcy with an unrepentant grin. Bruce handed her a small, flat, carefully wrapped package. Darcy tore through it.

It was a picture frame. The frame itself was very simple, just a slim black border around a picture matted in white. And the picture was…her. Sort of. It was a cartoon, and she was…kicking _ass_. The cartoon her was wearing all black, a lot like Natasha’s SHEILD uniform. Her boots buckled up the front and looked like they could do some serious damage. Her curves were exaggerated, and her hair was longer, flowing out behind her like a flag. But her face was hers, with exactly the sort of expression she hoped she had when she was training in ass kicking with Natasha, focused and fierce. It was _beautiful_. Darcy couldn’t ever remember anyone giving her a gift so…personal.

“I know you collect comics,” he started explaining a little shyly, “and the guy who does the art for those Avengers comics owed me a favor.”

“Bruce,” she said a little breathlessly, finally looking up “This is _incredible_.”

His smile lit up his face. “Good.” He said “I’m glad you like it.”

“I _love_ it.” She said, and threw her arms around him. He tensed for a moment, and then put his arms around her.

And then an obnoxious sound of ringing bells came from over their heads.

“We got ourselves a live one!” exclaimed Tony, unrepentantly waiving around his remote. Bruce and Darcy both looked up and saw the little mistletoe robot sitting directly above them.

Darcy pulled away from Bruce, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. She had no idea what to do.

To her surprise, after a moment, he raised his eyebrows and held his hand out to her with a nervous little smile, pulling her to her feet. “In the spirit of the season?” he said.

She nodded mutely.

And then Bruce’s hand was against her neck, and she could smell him, like gingerbread and cider and something fundamentally male. And then his lips were pressed gently against hers.

It was probably one of the most innocent kisses she had ever shared, it couldn’t have been more than five seconds, and their lips stayed closed. But the way his mouth moved against hers and the way he took in a breath when they parted made her feel a little faint, like the room was just a few inches below her feet.

Thankfully, the good natured cat calling that followed it allowed Darcy an escape, and she slipped out onto the balcony. The snow had started to fall, and the air quickly cooled her cheeks. The city looked beautiful and clean, a thin layer of white smoothing the harsh lines and making everything new.

“Hey,” it was Bruce, carrying two steaming mugs, “It’s getting cold up here. Thought you could use something warm.” He handed her the mug, and their hands brushed as she took it, lingering for just a moment.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment, looking out over the balcony rather than at her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

She shook her head. “No it’s not that,” she said. That kiss was the _opposite_ of awkward, but she didn’t want to let him know how she was feeling tonight. Christmas Eve was not the night she wanted her hopes crushed. “It’s just…” she paused, trying to figure out how to say this without saying _everything_.

“It can get lonely,” she said, “being in this life. I mean, you look at Steve and you wonder how it is _possible_ that he doesn’t have someone to share his life with. But at the same time you wonder how he could possibly meet anyone that would love him for _him_ you know? And be able to deal with the life he leads. And sometimes I wonder if that’s what has happened to me.”

Bruce exhaled heavily “I know what you mean” he said, “But I think that’s what makes SHIELD so valuable.” He was speaking carefully, “There’s a whole community of people who are part of this. It would be hard enough even to have friends you could really share things with without that.”

And because Darcy was feeling melancholy and a little bit drunk, she took a step towards Bruce and put her arm around his waist. His arm settled around her shoulder and she leaned against him.

After a moment Bruce went on, “There’s absolutely no way you will end up alone Darcy” he said quietly, “and if any guy lucky enough to be with you puts even a toe out of line, he’s going to have the earth’s mightiest heroes to deal with.”

She thought she felt him kiss the top of her head, and Darcy though maybe. Maybe. But she just stood there, watching the snow fall, Bruce’s arm warm around her, and let the rest fall away for a little while.


	10. Unforgettable

"Like a song of love that clings to me  
How the thought of you does things to me  
Never before has someone been more."

 - Nat King Cole (Unforgettable)

 

January 30th rolled around, and Bruce hadn’t come back yet. Some sort of unexpected complications with the tests he was running. And Darcy felt like she was sitting on a pile of ants. She was in an endless cycle in her head, whether maybe he might be feeling something for her, whether she should say something, whether any of this was a good idea.

Natasha had set up a punching bag and was watching her go to _town_ on it with narrowed eyes. Afterwards, they sat, and Darcy wiped at her forehead with a towel, guzzling water.

“So,” said Natasha finally, “Do you want to tell me about it, or shall I guess?”

Darcy paused for a moment, and then let out a long sigh. “It is impossible to keep secrets around here.”

“Well you’re being pretty obvious,” said Natasha matter of factly. “What’s eating you? Has something happened with Bruce?” she sounded like she was hedging, so she couldn’t have been _all_ that obvious.

“No. Absolutely jack squat _nothing_ has happened with Bruce,” she said heavily.

“Ahhh,” said Natasha, “So what’s keeping you from making something happen?”

Darcy looked at her incredulously. “Well, for starters there’s the whole thing where I don’t even really know if he’s interested at all, and the part where he’s the Hulk and that is sort of terrifying relationship  baggage to go in with, and other potential fallout from a failed attempt could be, you know, ruining the team dynamic of the Avengers, and” she sighed, “I’m terrified of losing him as a friend. Pick one.” She said dejectedly.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “You’re not thinking clearly on this. Think strategically, what’s your first move?”

Darcy looked over at her, “Do you think he likes me?” it was only half serious, but Natasha paused to consider it.

“Hard to say,” she said, “He certainly cares about you a lot, and he is _different_ around you than around other women, but I don’t have any kind of baseline register for how he expresses his emotions.”

“Yeah,” said Darcy, “Exactly.”

“So _think_ Lewis,” it was her business tone, “You’ve got a target and you’re flying blind. You need to mobilize an op because your current situation isn’t tenable. What’s your first step?”

“Recon,” said Darcy automatically, and then “Hey, recon! You have an idea don’t you, that’s an idea face.”

Natasha raised one eyebrow, “Well you do have a perfect low commitment, high potential outcome scenario facing you tomorrow night.”

“You want me to do something at Tony’s New Year’s party?” because that just seemed like a terrible idea. Getting shot down in front of an audience.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Come on rookie, hit the showers, we have a lot of work ahead of us this afternoon.”

“For _what_ ” Darcy asked, allowing herself to get pulled along.

“We need to go shopping,” said Natasha. This didn’t help Darcy at all, “…so we can find a dress that undeniably presents your appeal to the target, get you in his vicinity at midnight, and see if he takes the bait.”

Realisation dawned, “Not conclusive either way, but highly indicative and completely possible to write off as social custom if the outcome goes awkward.”

“Now you’ve got it,” said Natasha patiently, “Now move.”

+

+

Darcy hadn’t really been sure why Natasha had been in such a rush to get going, but she had realised about two and a half hours of shopping later that they were going to need every second they had left to them if she was going to meet Natasha’s standards of ‘ready’ for Tony’s giant New Year’s party. She had insisted that Darcy’s outfit had to start from the skin outwards and not just anything would do.

But, she had to admit, by the time she was dressed and her hair and makeup had been done to Natasha’s satisfaction, she felt like a million dollars.

The dress she (okay, Natasha) had chosen was a mile away from the dress Darcy would normally have worn, something cute, or vintage. This dress was…kapow, like it made a little sound effect bubble every time she walked. The cap sleeves were cut low over her shoulders, the rounded neckline showing off just the right amount of cleavage, the intricately seemed bodice narrowing her waist, while the pencil skirt hugged her hips and fit to the knee. The deep and vibrant red color of the satin set off her creamy skin and contrasted with her dark hair, worn in loose curls pulled over one shoulder with a comb.

Thor and Jane had gone out for dinner and Tony was probably getting in Peppers way as she tried to run the party, so it was just Clint, Natasha, and Steve waiting for her in the living room.  The first thing she saw was Clint, looking dapper in a suit, brushing a piece of hair behind Natasha’s ear like he didn’t care who was watching.

It said so much about what was going on between her two favorite assassins and how much trust they had for the people who surrounded them that it made her smile.

Steve “Captain America” Rogers however, took one look at her and let out a wolf whistle. Clint and Natasha both turned to her then.

“Why Captain Rogers,” she intoned in her best impression of a Georgia peach, “That was not entirely well mannered of you.”

“Well ma’am,” he said holding out a hand to her, “you look good enough to drive a man to sin, so I’ll count myself lucky that all I’ve lost is my manners. Now give us a spin.”

She took his hand with a laugh and let him spin her around once.

“Damn kid,” said Clint, “I’m going to be beating the guys off all night.”

They all paused and _looked_ at him.

“…and I just heard what I said and am ashamed, let’s move on.”

Natasha smirked at him, “Darcy can take care of herself when it comes to her admirers,” she said, “or beat them off, as she so chooses.” She grinned at Clint’s horrified expression. “You look fantastic Darcy.”

 “You too,” said Darcy, because Natasha looked sinful in a black lace number cut low in the back. She could see Clint’s hand toying with the edge of the fabric where it dipped to reveal the small of her back.

Apparently, masturbation jokes were pushing at the limits of Steve’s 1950s mentality because he was blushing as he turned and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall Captain Rogers,” said Darcy with a grin, linking her arm through his and heading for the elevator.

+

+

Natasha caught her alone in the coatroom as they arrived at the extravagant ballroom where Tony’s party was being held.

“I just heard from Hill, Bruce and his team got back about 10 minutes ago, so I’m sure he’ll be here in an hour or so. How’s the op looking?”

Darcy let out a breath, “All systems go, and praying to Thor and all his buddies that it works.”

“I think your chances are good,” said Natasha, expertly twisting an out of place curl back into submission, “He’d be crazy not to go for it.” And Darcy thought it might have been the most sentimental thing that she’d ever heard Natasha say.

“Thanks,” she said simply, “And, just so you know,” she continued as they walked to catch up with Steve and Clint who had headed for the bar, “I’m happy, for you and Clint I mean. Something has changed. I can see that. But if you ever break his heart, so help me god, I will _find_ a way to kick your ass.”  She thought it said something about her, that she actually had the stones to threaten the Black Widow.

But Natasha just smiled at her, this warm genuine smile. And all she said was “Thank you.”

Jane, Thor and Pepper were suitably impressed by her dressed up A game, Tony was suitably lecherous, and Darcy was feeling pretty good, perched at the bar at the hottest party in New York with the Avengers, watching Hawkeye and Captain America glare down any guys who approached her.

That is until the _thing_ happened that, up until midnight at least, was the _biggest_ news.

A tall girl with a pretty face and golden hair in an old fashioned style was walking by, carrying a plate of hors d’oeuvres. Darcy thought she looked vaguely familiar, Steve apparently thought so too.

“Excuse me,” he said, reaching out and stopping her with a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with the bland smile that Darcy knew well as the war face of all women in the service industry.

“Didn’t I save your life once?”

Darcy was not the only one who just about spat out her drink. The delivery was way too awkward for it to really be a line, but come _on_ Steve, really?

The girl started to say, “I don’t think…” and then she paused, tilting her head to the side and gasped, dropping her plate and covering her mouth with her hands. Thankfully, Steve’s reflexes hadn’t deserted him along with his tact and he caught the plate.

“You’re…you’re” the girl seemed a bit stuck.

“Yes ma’am,” said Steve, but with a sincerity that never usually accompanied the phrase when he said it to Darcy, as he put the plate down on the bar behind him.

“Oh…well, thank you?” she shifted nervously, as if suddenly realising that all of the Avengers were staring at her and Steve like their heads were on backwards.

Steve had his focus face on, and it was all directed at the girl in front of him. Darcy elbowed him as he just stood there looking at her stupidly.

“Oh,” he said, jumping a little, “it was no problem,” he dismissed the alien invasion with a little shrug. “I’m actually really glad I ran into you,” he took a breath. “I talked to you once, you were working at a café, you probably don’t remember…”

“I remember,” she said a little breathlessly. Darcy wished there was popcorn.

“Someone told me I should ask for your number,” said Steve shyly, “and I always regretted that I didn’t.”

“Oh,” said the girl, shell shocked. And hell, even _Darcy_ had melted a little at that. “I’m happy to give you...” She collected herself, “It’s just that I’ve got to…” she gestured towards the kitchen.

“You are officially _off_ duty.” Said Pepper in a tone that clearly communicated she was just as floored by this turn of events as everyone else.

Steve grinned at Pepper then turned back to the girl. “In that case…” he paused with a question.

“Oh! June,” she said quickly, “my name is June.”

“June,” Steve repeated with a slow smile, like the thawing of ice in the spring, “would you like to dance?”

“I would love to,” she said, and her smile was a little bit blinding.

There was a silence as they watched the pair walk to the dance floor, just staring each other in the face so hard that Darcy could almost see the cartoon hearts.

“Did anyone else just see that?” said Clint dazedly.

“Yep,” said Natasha incredulously.

“Did anyone else have _no idea_ the Cap had game?”

Darcy raised her hand.

“Did he seriously just pick up a beautiful girl with ‘didn’t I save your life once’?” Jane was bemused.

“Verily,” said Thor with a wide grin.

“Well I think it’s about time one of us started using our hero status to get some tail,” said Tony, and then winced as Pepper smacked him.

“I think it’s lovely,” said Pepper.

“Plus,” added Darcy, “It has always struck me as kind of a tragedy that nobody was hitting that. Un American even.”

“Amen,” Natasha agreed.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“What?”

+

+

Clint hadn’t been too far wrong about the lecherous assholes, but Darcy would be lying if she said it didn’t boost her confidence _just_ a little to turn down clumsy pick-up lines with a raised eyebrow she learned from the Black Widow and a poise carefully taught by Pepper Potts.

She caught up with Steve a bit later, but it was only because June had torn herself away to use the facilities.

“So Captain,” she said, sidling up to him where he sat, watching the hallway where the washrooms were, “planning a tactical strike at midnight?”

Steve ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide his silly grin. “Top secret,” he said, “What about you? You’ve got your fair share of admirers.”

Darcy had definitely filled her dance card and received at least one invitation for a midnight kiss from a guy who may or may not have been 20 years older than her and worth more than her entire home town.

She grinned, “Shockingly, when I tried the ‘didn’t I save your life once’ line, it didn’t go as well for me.” Steve looked both embarrassed and pleased.

“I can’t quite believe I ran into her again,” he said “felt like maybe I was just waiting for her, but that’s silly.”

“It’s not silly Steve,” she smiled warmly at him, “it’s kind of beautiful.”

“What about you,” he said, “you waiting on someone?”

She was saved from having to respond because June was back, and Steve just gave Darcy a helpless little smile as he met her on the dance floor.

It warmed her to her toes to Steve smitten like this, but the ease with which they seemed to settle into each other’s arms also caused a little cloud of melancholia to settle over her.

Clint, whose instincts were impeccable, stepped up beside her.

“So,” he said, “What’s a guy gotta do to get a dance with the girl who would threaten the Black Widow?”

She grinned, “You know it works in reverse too, right? You mess with Natasha. I’m coming for you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, “she’s _way_ scarier than you.” He extended a hand, eyes twinkling, “now come on, I promise I’ll dance nice.”

+

+

By the time 11:30 rolled around, Bruce still hadn’t arrived, and she was watching the door obsessively, perched at the bottom of the ballroom’s grand staircase. It wasn’t until exactly 11:46 that Bruce walked in the room, looking nervous and impeccably well-tailored in a tuxedo that must have been forced on him by Tony.

She felt a bit like a teenager, waiting for a boy to notice her in the lunchroom.

Only this time, he did.

The minute he saw her across the room, he broke into a wide smile and raised a hand, mouthing “Hi” at her.

She smiled, her stomach doing a flip flop, wondering what the hell she was doing, like maybe she was playing with fire. She waved.

She watched as he made his way over, threading through the crowd. He stopped a few feet in front of her, rocking back on his heels. “Hi,” he said.

“Hey,” she responded, “How did the science go?”

“Uh, good,” he said distractedly, “It was sciency. You look incredible.” It sort of popped out like he hadn’t even been intending to say it.

She felt herself flush, a warm awareness loosening her limbs. “You don’t look so bad yourself, there doc.” She said, reaching out and brushing off some imaginary lint from his sleeve.

“Should I be worried that Tony knows my size well enough to leave a tailored tuxedo for me?” he asked with a self-deprecating smile.

“Makes me wonder what you guys are doing down there in the lab all the time,” Darcy quipped with a raised eyebrow.

“You have a dirty mind,” said Bruce with a chuckle.

“You love it,” Darcy responded flippantly.

“I do,” he said, “I really do.” His tone was light but his words started a little fire burning at the core of her.

“So,” she said, looking at the big clock above the band. It read 11:51. “You just barely made it for the big countdown.” She felt obvious, like the whole world could see how badly she wanted to start the New Year attached to Bruce Banner’s face.

He didn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said.

The band struck up an old, slow jazzy number.

“Would you like to dance?” He held out a hand to her, a sort of sheepish smile on his face, like he was borrowing a move from the Cap, and it didn’t sit quite right on him. But Darcy thought gallantry suited him rather well. So she took his hand, and followed him out on the floor.

They didn’t really talk, except when Darcy let out a little gasp as he placed a hand at her waist and firmly guided her into a tight spin before pulling her back in close. “Bruce,” she was deeply impressed. And yeah, she wasn’t going to lie to herself, really turned on. “You know how to dance.”

He smiled down at her, his hand strong at her back, his fingers clasped over hers tightly. And that look was in his eyes again. “I have layers.”

Somehow, without her really noticing, the music had wound down and a fanfare had started up, counting down to the New Year.

10 , 9, 8

“Darcy,” Bruce said her name, and then stopped, like he had been stopped mid thought without words.

She reached up and put a hand against his cheek with an ever so slightly tentative smile, that hook in her gut pulling her in.

7, 6, 5

She felt herself drawn slowly closer to him, like gravity, inexorable.

4

She closed her eyes, she could feel his breath on her cheek, his heart beating.

3

A sharp and low rumbling cut through the chanting crowd and a shockwave hit the building, setting the chandeliers swaying. Bruce stiffened immediately, and then his phone set off wailing. She could hear a few other’s nearby.

The Avengers were being assembled.

He let out his breath in a rush, resting his forehead against hers.

“Happy New Year,” she deadpanned. He cracked a grin at that.

“I have to go,” he said. “Stay safe okay? I’ll find you after.” She just nodded and smiled at him as he ran off, looking back at her once.

She quickly found Jane and Pepper, who were busy sending everyone down to the basement.

“What’s the word?” she asked Pepper, as she helped her block the doors open to let people through faster.

“Dr. Doom, we think,” said Pepper. “At least based on the fact that they seem to be some sort of robotic knights on horseback.

“Seriously?” said Darcy, “that is so lame.”

“Totally,” said Jane, “unfortunately their super lame javelin slash missile launchers are still effective.”

The last of the party crowd made it down the stairs, and Darcy was doing one last sweep of the main floor and kitchens when she saw, out the lobby windows, a small group of teenagers, probably caught out trying to drink illegally on New Year’s, huddled against the wall of a building, watching in horror as one of the lame robot knights headed towards them.

Darcy didn’t even stop to think, she just reacted. Natasha would either be really proud or really mad.

She pushed out of the door and sprinted towards the group at full speed which, even in heels and a tight dress, was pretty good.

“Get down,” she shouted at them, “ _get down_.” One of the kids apparently had some level of coherence about him as he hit the deck and pulled his friends down with him. Some sort of projectiles that the thing had launched embedded in the wall above them. Unfortunately, now it had noticed her. The thing wheeled back on the horse with a hideous clanking noise and started barrelling towards her.

Darcy froze, standing right in the path of the metal knight’s javelin, and looked the horse right in the eye. Yeah, the horse was well trained. She had no idea how they had trained it to accept a metal rider, but she would eat her fucking hat if that horse wouldn’t rather have her on his back.

At the last second, she ducked to one side and _jumped,_ kicking out and catching the metal creature and sending it clattering to the ground with a fizzling whine. She fell heavily to the ground on her side, but quickly pulled herself back up. The horse had come to a stop and was stamping nervously a few meters away.

She approached cautiously. “Hey there, pretty man” she said in a low voice, “hey there.” The horse whiffled at her, sniffing her outstretched hand, and only twitched a little as she put a hand high on his haunches.

But she didn’t have much time, because three more of those things were heading towards the kids, now huddled on the ground. She said a silent little prayer, scooped up the metal thing’s discarded javelin, and threw herself up on the back of the horse.

She immediately grabbed the reigns, squeezing her thighs against the horse’s flanks and kicking him back towards the kids, leaping debris at an irresponsible speed. She pulled the horse up short in front of them, levelling the javelin at the oncoming threats.

“Hey guys,” she shouted back over her shoulder, “I need you to get up and run over to that building across the street when I say, okay?”

The kid who had pulled them down in the first place shouted back, “got it!”

She turned back to the three approaching metal riders, who had pulled to a stop about 100 feet away. One of them was lifting something to his shoulder, she looked at it quizzically for a half second before realising what it was.

“Oh shit,” she breathed. “Go! Go! Go!” She shouted at the kids, keeping herself between them and the missile launcher, much good it would do them.

It was like it happened in slow motion, she saw the Hulk only half a block away, turn and see her. He let out a bellow of rage and started barrelling in her direction. But it was too late, the missile was away, and it was going to catch all of them right in the middle of the street.

And then a green blur _launched_ itself in front of her, the explosion blew her sideways off the horse, and she lay stunned for a moment, not sure what happened.

The ringing began to settle in her ears, and she saw a pale young face, blurry in front of her.

“Hey, hey ma’am, you alright?” it was the kid.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” said Darcy, pulling herself to a seated position, “your friends?”

“They made it to the building, I think the fighting has sort of stopped though.”

She looked around; it looked like he was right. She could see the Cap heading their direction.

“You saved us,” the kid said in an awed and sort of dazed voice, as he helped her to her feet, “you saved our lives.”

“Wasn’t any trouble,” she said with a smile, “it was really…” the chain of events slammed back into her like a freight train.

“Bruce?” she couldn’t see the Hulk anywhere, “Bruce!” she ran towards the smoking impact site where the missile had struck. It wasn’t the other guy, it was Bruce lying there in the crater. She couldn’t see any blood. She skidded down beside him, smoothing his hair back.

“Bruce? Bruce can you hear me?” Her voice was panicked, verging on hysterical. She saw Steve pull up short just above her.

“Darcy?” Bruce voice sounded dazed and far away. He looked up at her, his eyes swimming. He coughed, and bright red blood spilled past his lips. His eyes rolled back in his head and all of a sudden, he just went limp.

“Bruce!” she screamed. Steve came sliding down the side of the crater beside her. “Bruce!” she was frantically running her hands over his face, across his chest, trying to figure out where he was injured.

“Darcy,” Steve’s voice was strong beside her, “Darcy we’ve got to get him back to SHIELD, Tony is coming to take him. Just come with me.”

“Is he going to be okay?” she said, not looking up at him.

“Bruce is pretty tough,” said Steve, gently pulling her away as Tony arrived, “and we’ve got the best people in the world at SHIELD to take care of him.”

She watched as Tony grabbed Bruce’s limp form and immediately took off, letting Steve help her out of the crater. Watching Tony’s lights streak through the sky until her eyes swam and she couldn’t see anymore.


	11. Creep

"Whatever makes you happy

Whatever you want

You're so fucking special

I wish I was special"

\- Radiohead (Creep)

 

They all sat in the small waiting area of the SHIELD medical facility. Well, Darcy sat, frozen, clutching Jane’s hand like a vice. Thor stood behind them, almost twitching with pent up energy. Clint was pacing back and forth in front of Natasha who stood in unnatural stillness. Tony and Pepper sat together.

Tony looked almost relaxed, but she could see how his hand gripped Pepper’s knee every so often and how her hand was pressed against his back.

Steve walked back in, he had been on the phone in the lobby.

“Your girl okay?” asked Clint as Steve collapsed into a chair.

“Yeah,” he said, “She said Darcy, Jane and Pepper got everyone into the basement. No one was hurt.” He looked at the three women with gratitude.

“Then what were you doing on the street,” Natasha looked at Darcy sharply.

“There were some kids caught outside,” she replied a bit absently, too internally focused to engage.

“She was incredible,” said Pepper, “she took down one of those things, hopped on its horse, and faced down three more of them to get the kids to safety.”

“It was my fault,” Darcy whispered, “I should have charged them, or been faster…” all she could see was the crater in the street, and Bruce lying there, her ears ringing. “He jumped in front of a missile. Who _does_ that?” Everything just seemed a few steps away from reality. This couldn’t be the real world.

“He is a Hero,” said Thor simply, “in either of his aspects.”

“and,” said Steve, “when the people you care about are in danger, taking a missile to the chest can be the better option sometimes.”

“You don’t get to claim this one,” said Tony gruffly, “You and Bruce are both heroes today.”

The door opened, and all of them turned their attention to Cheryl with an almost audible crack.

Wisely, she opened with, “He’s stable.” Darcy could hear the ‘but’ coming a mile away.

“But his condition is still critical. The internal damage was severe and we’ve repaired it as best we can. Right now, we’re just waiting for him to wake up. He has shown accelerated healing in the past, but that’s connected to the Hulk and it’s a function of his conscious mind. If he wakes up, he should be able to make a full recovery.”

“If?” Jane choked out

Cheryl paused, “There is a possibility that the damage is too severe. The next 24 hours are the most critical. We’ll let you know the minute we know more. But sometimes it helps to talk to the patient, in situations like this.”

Darcy latched onto this, desperate for something useful to do, feeling the knot of tension in her chest building, threatening to cut off her air.

The others came and went, but Darcy stayed, her hand covering his, just watching his chest rise and fall.

In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to speak, because saying what she wanted to say would feel too much like saying goodbye.

+

+

It was late the following night, and Darcy was alone with Bruce, exhausted and unwilling to close her eyes, when his fingers twitched under hers.

“Bruce?” her voice was no more than a whisper. His fingers gripped hers and his eyes fluttered.

“Darcy,” his voice was thick and gravelly, but he was looking at her he was _alive_.

She realised belatedly, that she was hyperventilating, the knot of tension inside her uncoiling bit by painful bit. And Bruce, even on death’s doorstep, went into doctor mode.

“Hey, it’s okay Darcy, its okay.” He grasped her hand firmly and tugged her towards him. “Get up here, and just lie down, face on the pillow. Long slow breaths. It’s okay.”

She lay there, side pressed up against his, his hand calming against the back of her head, pulling herself back together.

“Are you alright?” Bruce said eventually.

Darcy let out a hiccupping laugh. “Am _I_ alright? Bruce, you jumped in front of a _missile_ and you’re asking me if _I’m_ alright?” her voice was muffled in the pillow.

“You know, I do vaguely recall that,” said Bruce carefully, “Were you…were you on a horse?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning her head to look at him. Their faces were very close. “And now that’s the second time the big guy has saved my life.”

Bruce’s expression was halfway between a smile and a grimace, but he said, “That’s two you owe me, junior,” in a convincingly light tone.

She smiled gently, turning on her side and pulling close to him, because she was too exhausted and wrung out to pretend she didn’t want to. He slid his arm under her head.

“Is this okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” said Bruce, his fingers running odd little patterns against her shoulder, “this is good.”

“Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again, okay?” She whispered into his chest.

“Okay,” he said, a little sadly, because they both knew it was a promise he couldn’t really keep.

And Darcy didn’t know if he just needed the physical comfort of a friend after what he’d been through, or if there was something deeper there, but she didn’t care right now, because he was there, warm and breathing next to her, and his hand was strong against her skin, and she let herself fall asleep.

+

+

When she woke up, she was still curled warmly against Bruce’s side, her head low on his chest. He was sitting, propped against the back of the bed, a hand resting on her head as he spoke softly to a doctor.

The fact that she was twined around Bruce like a vine on a tree in front of other SHIELD personnel permeated her sleep fogged brain and she jerked upright.

“Hey,” said Bruce with a soft little smile.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, trying to dig herself out from under the blankets without jarring Bruce, “I was just so tired.”

“Well, it certainly hasn’t hurt Dr. Banner,” said the doctor, “I was just telling him that he has made huge strides overnight.”

“Really?” all embarrassment forgotten, “He’s going to be okay?”

“Yes Ms. Lewis, he’s going to be just fine.” The doctor smiled and went on with his rounds, leaving Darcy alone.

In bed.

With Bruce.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands.

“Jane brought you a change of clothes,” Bruce said after a moment, “if you want to…” he gestured at her ruined New Year’s dress.

“Oh,” it occurred to her that any _number_ of people probably dropped by to check on Bruce and saw her basically drooling on him, “I probably look like a wreck.” She felt self-conscious, awkward, and completely off balance.

“You look perfect to me,” said Bruce calmly, like it wasn’t one of the most perfectly wonderful things anyone had ever said to her. She felt a flush warm her cheeks as she ducked into the bathroom.

Jane had brought her comfortable clothes, leggings and a long top, fluffy socks, her favorite sweater. It made her feel a little more solid to take off the dress, pull her tangled hair back, coming back to herself. She washed her face and stood there for a moment, looking in the mirror.

And then she smiled. Bruce was going to be fine, and he thought she looked perfect. Who gave a shit who saw her wrapped around him if it was leading somewhere, and it felt like it was leading somewhere, it felt like there had been a shift somewhere, and maybe they finally had a shot at figuring this out instead of just dancing around each other.

When she exited the bathroom, Bruce had located the remote. He looked up at her with a blinding smile. “There’s a bond move marathon on,” he said, gesturing at the other side of the bed. “You in?”

“Yeah,” she let out her breath, “I’m in.”

+

+

She spent a large part of the next few days hip to hip with Bruce, watching movies, reading, playing video games, talking for hours about nothing.

Nothing much changed when he was released from the hospital. Tony insisted that he couldn’t convalesce alone out in the woods and he was firmly ensconced in the room next to Darcy’s. The workload in the lab was minimal without Bruce there, so Darcy only went in every now and again, and there wasn’t much going on in the analyst pool since it became clear that whoever took over the General’s operation was a complete amateur. She hoped it was Jim.

She was more often than not falling asleep next to him, spending her days with him, and growing more and more frustrated in more than one way.

As much as they had never really touched before, there had been a chemical shift, and he almost constantly had a hand in her hair or an arm around her shoulder, setting her skin tingling and a growing heat building in her gut.

She lay awake next to him at night, listening to his slow, even breath, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

She could feel the curious eyes of her housemates watching them together until she wanted to scream that _nothing was happening_.

She didn’t know what to think. How could he _stand_ this holding pattern if he was feeling the same things she was? What did he think they were doing here? Was this just a comfort thing for him? Had he gone so long without physical contact that he was just desperate to have her _there_ but nothing more? That though made her a little sad, but also angry, because couldn’t he see what it was doing to her?

She was working out her aggression on a punching bag in the gym when Clint found her one afternoon.

“What’s with all the nervous energy kid?” he asked when she paused, tossing her a towel. “I thought you’d found a more entertaining way to work it off.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” said Darcy tightly.

“Wait, you and Bruce aren’t..?” Clint trailed off indelicately.

“Nope,” she said, “Not even a little bit.”

“Well that’s just…weird.” Said Clint, “Why?”

“Because,” said Darcy, “He hasn’t made a move and I find him impossible to read.”

“Well,” said Clint, “and I can’t believe I am saying this, but have you ever thought that maybe you should just jump him?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m not sure that launching myself at Bruce is the answer.”

“Darce, you have to confront this,” he said in a more serious tone. “Because this weird stand-off you two have going on right now can’t last forever. It’s going to blow up in your face, and it could really hurt the team.” He looked apologetic but firm.

She sighed, “I know. I will.”

+

+

It turned out that it was a bit of a moot point, because confrontation was waiting for her anyways. She walked into his room and found him staring out the window, arms crossed, looking tense.

“Hey,” she said cautiously. “Everything alright?” She could see he was holding a folder.

“I had a meeting with Hill today,” he said. She hadn’t even known that he had left.

“Oh?” he sounded a bit dire.

He wordlessly handed the folder to her. It was surveillance photos. Most of them were of Bruce, but she showed up a lot as well. There was a few from some of the runs they had been on outside of the SHIELD facilities, and many more recent photos of going for coffee near the tower, and dancing together at New Year’s.

“Are these from the General’s operation?” she asked. Why hadn’t she been notified?

“Different General,” said Bruce tightly, “someone who’s got a real problem with the Hulk.”

“Well I quite like this one from New Years,” she tried for a light tone, “I look pretty good.”

“Darcy,” Bruce was clearly not in a joking mood. “I’ve been spending too much time with you if he’s drawing a connection. It’s too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous for who Bruce,” she could hear the steely note in her own voice.

“Darcy, please just…” Bruce started.

“No,” she almost shouted. “No I _wont_ just, Bruce,” and it was like a floodgate had broken loose.

“This is bullshit,” she said crossing her arms, “You can’t just brush this aside like it’s nothing. Whatever the hell is going on between us, it is not _nothing_ Bruce, and I can’t handle this anymore.”

She took a breath; Bruce was looking at her, stunned. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but Darcy wasn’t done.

“I can’t lie next you, and have you around all day, and have you _touching_ me without wanting more. And I can’t go another day without telling you that you are _all_ I think about, and you have filled up my world so completely, that it’s hard to breathe. I don’t know what this is for you, whether it’s just comfort, or convenience, but I have to _know_ , because having you so close, but not having you is _killing_ me.” She felt a bit like she had run a marathon, breathing heavily, just staring at him across the empty space that separated them.

“Comfort?” said Bruce in a disbelieving voice, “Convenience? How can you _possibly_ think that’s all this is for me?”

She just looked at him, waiting for him to make his move, because his tone didn’t sound all that encouraging, and Darcy had already put her whole heart on the table.

“Darcy,” he ran a hand through his hair, “If I had really believed for a _second_ that you might feel…Christ.” He turned, slamming the flats of his hands against the wall and resting his forehead against the smooth surface. “I was being stupid, and selfish, and I never should have let it get this far.”

“Let _what_ get this far,” said Darcy, her throat thick with unshed tears.

“You have to know,” he paused, turning to her, “you have to know that you are just…god, I am _crazy_ about you Darcy.”

“Then what is the _problem_.” She was in flux, too much coming at her at once. She wanted to scream or cry or throw herself at him.

“I thought maybe I could…but I can’t Darcy, I _can’t_. I’m too dangerous. I’m not… there are people out there who want to get to me. And after Hill talked to me today…and I’ve already put you in danger, just by spending so much time with you. If they ever knew how I felt…Darcy, the Hulk is dangerous. In so many ways. I’m dangerous. And I won’t…I _refuse_ to bring you into that. I promised you Darcy, I promised you that I would protect you.”

And she could hear in his voice that this was cutting him to the bone, and that he really thought that this was the best thing he could do for her, but she didn’t care, because all that was really getting through at the core of it was that he was pushing her away.

“You know,” said Darcy in the calmest voice she could manage, “You’re so concerned about the harm the Hulk will do. But the other guy keeps saving my life Bruce. You’re the one who’s hurting me.”

And she walked out of the room.

+

+

The first thing she did was storm over to SHIELD and into Hill’s office without even stopping at her assistant’s protest.

“What did you say to Bruce,” said Darcy, hands on Hill’s desk, staring her down.

Hill looked her up and down, and then responded directly. “I told him that he was painting a target on you, that it was too easy to see that you could be used against him.”

“I’ve been wearing a target for a long time now,” Darcy hurled the words at her, “Did you ever think that maybe this was a target I would _choose_?”

Hill nodded, “I did. But it’s my job to give my team the best information I can.” She looked almost sympathetic. “And Bruce, like all the best men I have known, will always put the welfare of the people he loves above his own. I just gave him the information Lewis, he made the call.”

+

+

She tore through her office, pulling her spare running gear out of her desk. She went out behind the building and she ran. She ran until she was sick, she ran until she had nothing left in her.

When she dragged herself back to the tower, Bruce’s room was empty, his things moved. Darcy collapsed into bed without undressing. As tired as she was, she didn’t fall asleep for a long time.

+

+

Clint and Natasha were quietly talking over coffee when she walked into the kitchen the next morning. They looked up at her with concern.

“How are you kid?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her.

“So, you know?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Bruce told everyone,” said Natasha. Darcy dropped her head in her hands. “He was quite concerned about the team dynamic. It was all very discrete, he’s trying to make himself the bad guy.”

“Plus,” said Clint, “Your voice really carries when you’re ranting.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Darcy into her hands, “god, I’ve made such a mess.”

“You and Bruce are both idiots,” Clint agreed calmly, “but he’s taking the heat on this one for trying to decide what risks you can and can’t take.”

“He is _just_ trying to protect her,” Natasha started to say, but cut herself off, as if they’d already rehashed this.

“I think I just need some air,” said Darcy, “and some time to think.”

 She needed to figure out how she was going to fix this, because regardless of the train wreck that was her and Bruce, the team was more important.

+

+

She showered and got dressed, unable to even think about food, and started wandering around the byways and back streets of Manhattan.

That was stupid. She should have stuck to busy areas, she shouldn’t have wandered into side streets, she should have been aware of her surroundings and not sunk so far in misery.

Because it turns out that abductions, like all bad things, came in threes.

At least this time Darcy put up a good fight, but even with how far she had come, unarmed and taken by surprise, the four men sent after her eventually held her down, stabbed her in the arm with a syringe, and she just faded out.


	12. Top of my Lungs (Just a Little Louder)

“I want to wake when I’m done sleeping

Give up the chase of whatever I’m trying to beat

Can time be gentle, can love be sweet.”

 

-          Carrie Manolakos (Echo)

 

 

The first thing she thought when she woke up was that of all the evil lairs she had been in, this was the worst.

The second thing she thought was that the past week may have actually driven her insane.

In her defence though, the building was old and dank, the brick walls were dirty, and junk littered the small room she was in.

 She was tied to a drainpipe that ran down a pillar, uncomfortably pressed against it and chilled from the cement floor.

As she twisted to look around her, she heard a low jangle.

"No fucking way," this was probably the best thing that had happened to her in, well, ever.

Tony had been kind of pissed off when he found out that the little blue circle of his arc reactor on the charm bracelet that Steve had given her for her birthday didn't do anything and, like always, he had gotten a bit carried away.

 He had proudly presented the bracelet back to her, capable of new and exciting mischief, calling it her "Swiss Army bling."

Perhaps most importantly, none of the tools would work until she activated it by holding her thumb against the back of a roman looking shield. ("Get it? 'SHIELD'?" "Yes Tony, you're very clever.") And some idiot had left it on her when they tied her up.

 The door opened, she looked up sharply. Ahhh, that idiot.

Jim Reynolds did not look as good in all black as his old man. He looked washed out and pasty.

She told him so.

He kicked her sharply in the ribs.

"You shut your mouth you little bitch," he hissed at her, "it is your fault that he's rotting away in jail, it’s your fault that SHIELD is still running the country into the ground, and I am going to make you pay for it."

 "So your evil organization funding got cut without daddy at the helm and all you have the resources for is petty revenge?" She guessed she hit pretty close to the mark, as his hand cracked across her face.

"You will shut your filthy little mouth, whore." he spat at her, "There is no escape for you. I don't need you alive for any information, the Avengers aren't going to get to you in time, and I will leave your broken corpse for them to find."

 "You are seriously unbalanced." said Darcy, “You’re really taking rejection poorly. Just because I wouldn’t go out with you doesn’t mean there isn’t some evil she-lunatic out there for you.”

He stiffened, then stepped back, "Making me angry won’t make it easier," he said in a tight, calm voice, "you can sit here and think about the ruin I will make of you until I am ready."

That had actually gone quite well, Darcy thought to herself as he stormed out, slamming and bolting the heavy door behind him. She had been concerned for a minute that he wouldn't leave.

As she twisted her hand and held her thumb against the little shield she scanned the room carefully and was pleased and somehow not surprised to see no cameras.

 Carefully running through the charms, she immediately pressed down on the centre of Cap's shield to send out her distress signal.

She wasn’t, however, going to sit around and wait to be rescued.

She found the tiny retractable blade hidden inside the arrow charm and started sawing at the rope between her wrists. It was a painful angle, and she ended up with a few slices, but she finally broke through the last loop holding her wrists together and made short work of the rest of the knots.

 Rubbing her wrists, she crept to the door. She couldn't hear much outside, but she had to assume there was at least one guard out there. She found the tiny catch on the side of the arc reactor and flicked it on. It lit up, generating a tiny but powerful laser. She set to work cutting through the locks.

 She took a breath then, preparing herself, clutching the green cartoon hulk head (Tony had thought it was hilarious) and prepared herself to count to three.

On the one, she slammed through the door, launching herself forward and turning back while squeezing the charm.

 The directional concussive blast burst the eardrums of the two guards outside the door and she took off at a sprint.

She quickly realised that wherever she was, it was a bit of a maze.

An alarm of some kind had been tripped, and she was expecting the goon squad around any corner. There was a pretty constant stream of curses running through her head.

 And then, as she looked around the next corner, she saw a small staircase, and daylight seeping around the door at the top of it. She took off at a sprint, her arc reactor laser at the ready.

She made quick work of the lock, pushed through the door, and immediately slammed painfully to the ground as someone grabbed her heel.

 She kicked out, scrambling on the ground. It looked like she was in an alley, much good that did her, as Jim Reynolds was standing over her with a gun and a wild look in his eyes.

"You had to run, didn't you" he growled at her, reaching down and ripping the bracelet from her wrist. "I am going to see you crawl, you disgusting fucking cu..."

 She must have been closer to the city that she thought, because apparently the Avengers had already arrived. The ear splitting roar of the Hulk shook the alley as he dropped down seemingly out of nowhere. She could see Tony's con trail approaching, but the Hulk was not known for patience.

 He threw a giant hand around the now terrified man standing over her and _squeezed_. Jim made a strangled sort of gurgling noise, unable even to struggle as the Hulk turned all of his incredible strength against her captor.

 It was horrific to watch, but she couldn't look away.

At the end of it, she was spattered with things she didn't want to think about.

The Hulk was heaving, looking at her with tormented eyes.

Did he know? What had passed between her and Bruce? She thought he might have some idea.

"Hulk?" she questioned carefully, scrambling to her feet, wincing at bruised ribs and knees.

 His bellow blew her hair back, it might have been her name. He scooped her up, just like the last time, and started to run.

+

+

Darcy got it, she really did, what it was to want to just run away from it all, but even the Hulk couldn’t run forever, and eventually he stopped near and abandoned barn and fell to his knees, letting her go as he began to shrink back into Bruce.

 Darcy's stomach lurched. A confrontation with Bruce right now...

She walked into the barn, finding some standing water from last night's rain in an old trough, and washed away the worst of the mess with a detached thoroughness. There was nothing she could do about her clothes.

She sat there for a while, praying Tony or SHIELD would show up soon, but knowing it would be a while for them to shut down the location then find them without her beacon, especially considering she was safe.

It wasn't even ten minutes before she heard Bruce stirring, and then "Shit," in a dull, choked voice. "Shit, no. Oh god.” the curses continued in an increasingly anguished tone. She carefully walked out of the barn toward his hunched figure. He was looking down at the blood on his hands and smeared across his torso.

 "Bruce?" she asked in a cautious tone.

He sprung to his feet, "Darcy?" he looked disbelieving and then "Darcy," he strode to her, pulling her fiercely against him, his hands unable to be still on her, then he set her roughly back.

 “You're bleeding," he said in a panicked tone, looking at her blouse, "where are you hurt?" his hands pushed her shirt up to her ribs, checking for injuries.

Bruce was frantic, but Darcy felt strangely calm. "It's not mine," she said in a small voice, "Bruce, I'm fine, I'm okay."

 "You're okay?" he said like he didn't believe her. She nodded, "You're okay." like maybe it was getting through.

“Darcy," the anguish in his voice was threatening to pull her ribcage out by the hook he had put through her, and it wouldn't let go. "I thought you were..." his hands brushed her hair almost reverently.

 "I'm not," she said grasping his hands firmly and looking into his eyes, "I’m not."

And then he pulled her sharply against him, his hand threading into her hair, pulling her face to his and _kissing_ her.

That was almost too polite a term. Her mouth opened under his without even a conscious thought on her part, as he pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth and delved into her mouth like he was trying to bring her back to life. One hand was cupped under her ass, pressing her into him and she could feel him hard against her belly.

And something in her just _snapped_.

A low keening noise that she almost didn’t recognise as her own escaped her as she clung madly to his shoulders, her hips stuttering against his. She broke away from his mouth with a gasp, and he took the opportunity to attach himself to the smooth skin of her neck, sucking and pulling with his teeth in a way that was sure to leave a mark.

But Darcy did _not_ care. Everywhere he was touching her was on _fire_ and maybe it was because it had been a long time, and because the adrenaline of the situation was coursing through her but mostly because it was _Bruce,_ she could not remember _ever_ having wanted someone so badly. _Right now_.

His hands rucked up her top, gripping her ribs in a way that was just this side of painful, his thumbs sweeping over the undersides of her breasts. Her nipples tightened almost painfully, and an arrow of need shot straight through her, moisture leaking between her legs as she gripped his hair with one hand and his hip with the other, not sure if she was trying to pull him closer or just hold on for dear life.

His mouth descended lower, nipping at her skin, leaving a damp trail as he sucked on the skin of her chest, one hand reaching up to cup her left breast almost tentatively. She moaned, pressing herself into his hand, and he let out this little gasp as he rand his thumb firmly over her peaked nipple.

She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head impatiently, dislodging Bruce for a moment, but he didn’t seem to mind. His voice was low and gravelled in his throat as he murmured “You’re so beautiful” against her skin, his head bent to her breast. 

She gasped his name as he took one nipple into his mouth, the cotton of her bra soaking through and causing an almost painful tightness. She reached down between them with the hand not busy holding his head to her chest, and pressed it firmly against his erection. His hips canted into her hand and he made a guttural noise that sent electricity zinging through her, concentrated distinctly at the juncture of her thighs. Her breath was coming in little gasps, dying for more of him.

She hitched her hip up against him, seeking the relief of friction. He seemed to be on the same wavelength, for once, and picked her up with a grunt, as she wrapped her legs around him.

“Not here,” she whispered, her teeth worrying his earlobe. “Inside.”

They almost didn’t make it, as he pressed her up against the wall of the barn, and she reached behind her back to undo her bra and toss it aside. He bent to suck one diamond hard nipple into his mouth, his hips pressing into hers rhythmically, one hand braced against the wall as she ground down against him, his hardness pressed right at her center, her wetness seeping through her cotton pants.

She worked her hands into his shorts, clutching at his ass as he finally turned, lifting her into the shadowy barn. He half stumbled to a pile of old straw sacks in one corner, but was so careful when he placed her down.

He braced himself above her, looking down at her for a moment, eyes dark, intense, like she might be a miracle.

“Bruce,” she keened, greedily pulling him against her with a leg hooked behind his knee and hands hard against his back, hips lifting upwards towards him.

“Oh fuck, Darcy,” he let out as she pressed her thigh between his, his hard cock hot against her, crashing his mouth against hers in a messy tangle of lips and tongue and teeth.

She pulled at his shorts, rolling them down his hips as far as she could reach until he made a frustrated noise, pulling away from her only for long enough to hook a thumb through them and pull them off, tossing them haphazardly before slamming his mouth back against hers and ran his hands down the smooth plane of her stomach, thumbs hooking under the waist of her pants.  His hands low on her pelvis causing her muscles to twitch, the sensation making her cry out.

She impatiently started shoving at the waist of her pants, trying to pull them off while not breaking their connection, biting at Bruce’s lips. Eventually, he planted his hands firmly on her hips and flipped her over, pressing his hips into her so that she could feel his cock _right there_ before pulling back, dragging his teeth down her body, hands pulling her pants and underwear down her legs until she could toe them off.

He paused, suckling at the sharp bones of her hips, her pelvis twitching as he was so close to her centre. His hands dragged up her legs, fingers curling around her thighs as he exhaled, his hot breath electric on her clit. He pressed one long finger into her, groaning as she fluttered and clenched around it, so wet and ready for him.  His finger curled inside her, moving gently, as he slowly found her clit with his tongue.

Her head fell back as she let out a breathy cry of pleasure, the tension building, he was driving her crazy. Her hips pressed into his mouth in little edgy bursts and her hands skated up her ribs to cup her breasts, her thumbs flicking at her overly sensitive nipples. God he was driving her so close.

“Bruce!” she called out as a shiver of pleasure shot through her, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him up with a sharp tug . And his cock was pressed against her wet core and they both gasped, stilled by the feel of it.

And, because even this unhinged, this wrapped up in the heat of this crazy moment, he was still Bruce, he looked down at her and whispered. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” she cried out, grasping at his ass, desperate to get closer, to bind him to her.

He pulled her knee up, tilting her hips upwards and pressed into her with a hiss, sliding easily into her ready quim. She let out a noise, somewhere between a whimper and a cry, as he filled her, stretching almost to the point of pain as she dug her nails into his back.

He let out an explosive whine, his head resting against her shoulder, his breath stuttering as he stilled himself.

“Are you…?”

“God, Bruce, I need you to…” she hitched her hips up to him, pulling him deeper, and he gasped. He pulled back slowly, then slammed into her, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

He set a brutal rhythm, neither of them able to hold back, both already close. His hand scrambled at her hips, pulling her off the floor, bracing them both up with his other arm, muscles standing out in tension. His pelvis hitting her clit every time he pressed into her.

She let out a little mew of pleasure with each snap of his hips, driving her closer and closer, the tension almost unbearable.

Her eyes flew wide as she came hard, pushing wildly off the floor into him, fluttering and grasping around his cock as she screamed his name, her world going fuzzy as she raked her nails down his back. She whimpered as he cried out, losing his rhythm as he pounded into her, drawing out her orgasm.  His hands sure to leave bruises on her hip, as his face contorted, his arms twitched and he spilled himself into her, pulling her up against him, his teeth on her neck and gasping little noises low in his throat.

They collapsed against the rough wood of the barn, her head resting against his shoulder, both of them damp with sweat and breathing heavily.

After a moment, as the passion and panic and urgency settled and heart rates slowed, she pulled herself away and looked up at him. He was looking back at her with a closed off expression, so far from what it had been moments ago. She could almost hear him overthinking.

"Bruce..." she began softly.

"We should..." he gestured towards her scattered clothes, "Someone could show up."

Because he wasn't wrong, and because Bruce wasn't exactly cornering the market on overthinking, she nodded, untangling her legs from him and rising with a little wince. I was an ache that she would probably be feeling for a few days, but it was the kind she would gladly take.

She gingerly slipped back into her clothes, leaving off her blouse in favor of just her tank top, as it was a little less...spattered.

When she turned back, she saw Bruce outside, as dressed as he could be in his shorts.

She bit her lip as the sight of his strong shoulders, the marks of her fingers visible even from here, shone in the afternoon light, her stomach doing a slow flip. Her body was apparently not satisfied now that she knew what she had been missing.

 And he couldn't deny her now, not after that.

She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and pressing against his back. She felt him tense underneath her.

"Do you want to talk about this now?" she half mumbled against his skin, the salt of his sweat against her lips, “or just let it sit until later."

 "Darcy," his voice was reverent and anguished as he turned, gently unclasping her arms and setting them at her side, "There's...there's nothing to talk about."

She felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, just like she had when they first knew each other. And now she knew what the leap was, but she couldn't turn back anymore.

 " _How can you say that_?" she didn't even try to keep the hurt and anger from her voice, and she could see the pain it cause in Bruce's eyes. They just kept hurting each other. And it had to stop.

"This was...god, I can't regret this Darcy, even though I should. Even though I never should have let myself...Christ, Darcy I didn’t even use protection."

 "Don’t you treat me like I wasn't involved in this decision Bruce, don't you dare. I was right there with you. Besides, I’m not stupid, I’m on the pill."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his already wild hair "It doesn't change anything," he said finally.

 "You are the most incredibly stubborn man I have ever met,” she said, crossing her arms. She was not about to go down without a fight, because no man that could look at her the way Bruce looked at her really wanted to be alone, and if he wasn’t going to fight for his own happiness, she would just do it herself, goddammit.

 "Why doesn't it change anything?"

"I won’t put you in danger,” he said firmly, "I won’t be a target on your back."

"That ship has already sailed Bruce," she said in exasperation, "I've had a target on my back since New Mexico. And maybe I didn't choose to get drawn into this life, but I'm choosing to stay. I've got target for Clint and Natasha, and Tony and Steve and Thor and even Jane on me already. You don't get to decide if I wear yours.”

 Bruce looked uncertain for a moment, but not convinced. "If it was just that...but I can't Darcy, the way you make me feel, it's...it's out of control, which is..."

"How do you think that is a bad thing Bruce? I think we have just proved that out of control can be really really good." She stepped towards him, trying to remind him with the feeling of skin on skin. He let her press against him, an arm coming around her waist and one in her hair.

 "But the other guy..."

"I've been handling him just fine for months now. Sometimes I think he likes me more than you do. It's a complication Bruce, nothing more."

He spoke quietly into her hair. “What if a friend of yours told you that there was this guy, and he was usually fine, but sometimes he lost control, and got violent. Would you tell her to stay? Would you tell her to fight for him?"

 She felt like she had been physically punched in the gut. "Is that really what you think about yourself?" she pulled back and looked at him searchingly, "Is that who you think you are?"

"It's who my father was."

 It made sense to her a bit more now, why he was so determined to keep himself away from her, if that was really how he saw himself. And she was suddenly so tired of pushing up against his walls. It was sort of an exquisite sadness.

 "I think," she said pulling away from him, "That you don't really know yourself all that well Bruce. You don't know what everyone around you sees, what I see. You are worth all of the risks and complications that you bring with you, and I think they are a lot less dire than you do. But apparently what I think doesn't matter to you enough."

 He started to protest, but she interrupted him.

"I get that it’s scary Bruce. You don't think that it scares me? The way I feel about you, how you have the power to hurt me like this? But it’s scary, letting someone in like that. That’s not about you or the other guy, that just _is_. And I don’t see how we could hurt each other any more by being together than we have being apart.” She struggled to continue through the lump rising in her throat and the tears welling up in her eyes, but she was going to finish this dammit.

 "But I can’t do this with you anymore. So you need to make a decision. I want to be with you, but if you don't want that, I need to walk away before I let you ruin me."

 The look in his eyes was anguished as he watched the tears roll down her face.

"I just want you to be happy," he whispered.

"Well you're doing a bang up job,” her voice was thick with tears.

He took a step towards her, but she held up her hand warding him off.

 "Just, don't right now. Leave me alone. I need you to give me some space until you figure your shit out okay?"

He swallowed heavily, but nodded.

They sat outside, a few meters and a million miles apart, until the SHIELD helicopter showed up.

+

+

 Natasha watched her and Bruce settle on opposite sides of the helicopter with sharp eyes. Darcy was sure she could see the marks on her neck and on Bruce's back, but she said nothing.

"Reynolds?" was all she shouted over the noise.

 Darcy gestures to her blood spattered clothes and drew a line across her neck without remorse.

"You?" Natasha mouthed at her with raised eyebrow.

She gestured to Bruce with her thumb. He was watching her intently and didn't react to her gesture at all. Natasha looked at him curiously, but let it drop.

 Darcy felt his eyes on her the whole way back, but she kept her gaze resolutely out the window.

 +

+

She participated mechanically in the debrief, shrugging off suggestions that she head to medical or psych. When she was released, she went directly to Hill.

 "Lewis," she said as Darcy walked in, "glad to see you back in one piece.”

"More or less," said Darcy sitting across from her, "I'm here to request a transfer."

+

+

She avoided going home, because she knew that everyone would be waiting for her, ready to make jokes about how maybe she should start taking a long hard look at her being kidnapped habit and crowing over the success of their gadgets and generally taking care of her.

And she needed to be taking care of herself right now.

 She walked out under the trees behind SHIELD until she came to Bruce's house in the woods. She knocked, and after a moment the door slid open. He looked surprised to see her.

"Darcy," he breathed, "what are you doing here?"

 She handed him a folder. "This is my transfer package," she said as calmly as she could, "It’s not far, just a state away. It's a good job, I'll visit everyone often, and I'll move on with my life. This isn't about giving you an ultimatum or forcing your hand, this is about what's best for me. Two days from now, either I stay or I go. So turn it in, and we don't have to have a messy goodbye, and we won’t cause any rifts in the team, and we can just go on with our lives or," she took a breath, "you can tear it up and find me."

 She paused, he was just looking at the folder with a bewildered expression.

"I hope this isn't goodbye," she said, and he looked up at her sharply, "but if it is..." she leaned in, gently pressing her lips against his, only for a moment, "I hope you find what you need someday."

 She left before he could say anything, because she wanted him to take his time, to not just react to the thought of her leaving, because as hard as leaving would be, staying if he couldn’t really give himself to her would be worse.

 She finally made her way back to the tower late that night.

"Darcy," Jane jumped off the couch at the elevator opened "We were starting to worry," all of the tower residents were there, looking at her with concern. "You okay?"

 "Yeah," she said, "Yeah I'm fine. I put in for a transfer." Well, she could have been a little more tactful about that.

"What?" Clint squawked, "why would you do that?"

"Yeah, I mean, you get kidnapped a measly three times and you’re running for cover?" Tony chimed in.

 She had to grin, "It's not about that," she said, “I'm getting pretty good at these hostage situations," she took a breath, "this is about Bruce."

"Darcy," Steve said gently, "are you sure that running away is…"

 "I am not running away," she interrupted sharply, "this is his call, I laid my cards on the table, but I'm not going to hang around here, being miserable, and messing with the team.” She let out a dry little laugh, “Case in point, do any of you realise how _weird_ it is for me that Bruce felt the need to keep you guys up to date on our really very personal drama?”

"When did you become the rational adult in this situation?" Jane asked.

 "Terrifying, isn’t it." she said with a little grin.

"Well I for one am rooting for Bruce to pull his head out of his ass," said Clint grumpily.

"Here here," boomed Thor, "I believe this is the sort of situation that calls for ice cream and alcoholic beverages, yes?"

 "Thor, you are really getting the hang of this whole Midgard thing," said Darcy gratefully, "that sounds just about right.”

+

+

Natasha caught her alone in the kitchen later, because she was sneaky like that.

 "How was it?" she nodded pointedly at the bite mark just visible under her collarbone. Darcy didn't see any point in prevaricating.

"Mind blowing," she said, "best sex ever."

Natasha smirked, "He'll come around," she said confidently, "and not just because of the sex."

 +

+

Natasha, as always, was right.

She had hit the trails the next morning, needing to keep active even though she had been told to take the week off work.

He was sitting there as she rounded the last turn, right where she had first met him. Thankfully, she didn't fall this time.

 "Hi," he said as she approached.

"Hi," she responded, waiting to see what he would do.

"You were right," he said, a little smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"About what exactly?" Because after all of this, he was going to have to be explicit.

 "I'm terrified," he said, but he didn't look terrified, he looked freed, “and I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," she said, "you are." there was a nervous feeling churning in her stomach. She had practiced, what she would say if he found her to say goodbye, to tell her to go and be happy without him. She was prepared for that.

 "I actually," he ducked his head nervously, "I talked to Betty last night."

"Oh?" because where was he going with this?

"Yeah," he smiled a little foolishly, "turns out she didn't break up with me because of the other guy, but because of me. Because I was..."

 "An idiot?" Darcy suggested helpfully.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"And this is a good thing?"

"I've just," he bit his lip, "I've let the other guy keep me so separate from people. I've been so sure that no one deserved that in their life, that no one wanted it. Pushing people away, keeping a safe distance, became the easiest thing to do. But I don’t _want_ to push you away Darcy, I don't know if I can. The thought of not seeing you every day...” he paused, looking at her with such intensity and focus that it was a little bit scary, “and I guess talking to Betty made me realise that it's _me_ standing in the way, not the other guy at all."

He pulled her transfer paper out of the folder. "And I am sick of walking away from things that I want." he ripped the packet in half. "Stay," he said, looking at her with wide and hopeful eyes. "Stay with me."

He was standing there, saying all the things she wanted him to say, he was making the big gesture, and all she could think was “you couldn’t have figured this out months ago?" She knew it was unfair, that he had years of habitual self-denial that he was trying to break through, for her. But the hurt feelings of being pushed aside for so long didn't just magically evaporate.

 And the best she could do, rather than yelling at him, was say "Okay" in a clipped tone and “I’m going to take a shower."

He opened and closed his mouth once, and then just nodded as she walked past him into the building.

+

+

 It really only took her ten minutes standing under the spray before it sunk in what had just happened.

"Shit," she said out loud, "oh shit goddam mother FUCK." she raced to dry off and get dressed, picked up her phone, and dialed the person most likely to be close by in the building.

 Clint picked up after one ring. "Shit, Clint. SHIT."

"Context?" he asked bemusedly.

"I am an asshole, shit what do I do?"

"Not helping. Where are you, I'll come find you."

 She was bouncing nervously on her toes when he found her in an empty board room.

"Sit," he said in a non-negotiable tone. She sat.

"What is your problem?"

"So I told Bruce I was leaving unless he got over himself, right?" Darcy began, nervously twisting her hands.

 "So I hear."

"He came and found me this morning and tore up my transfer paper and asked me to stay."

One of Clint's rarely bestowed, genuinely happy smiles lit up his face. "That is amazing kid! I knew Bruce had it in him."

 "Yeah, except I was still feeling hurt, because I can't turn my feelings off like a robot, so I said "okay" and left." She spilled in a rush.

"You said ‘okay'?" Clint was incredulous,

"Yep," she confirmed in a morose tone.

 "And walked away?"

"Yeah"

"After Mr. Tortured self-denial himself basically tore his heart out and presented it to you?" Clint was getting awfully high pitched.

"Yes."

"You guys are idiots." Clint threw his hand up in disgust.

 "I _know_ Clint. How do I fix it?" She used her best wide eyed vulnerable look.

Clint sighed; she knew he was defenceless against that look. "Well, you could start by telling him what you told me. And I would quickly follow it by throwing yourself at him and doing things you are _never_ to tell me about." He crossed his arms, looking at her sternly.

 "That simple?" She asked.

"That simple.” He paused, giving her a warm and patient look. “The man is in love with you kiddo, blind people three states over can see it. So just go already."

"You," she kissed him on the cheek, "are the best."

+

+

She found him in a seldom used lab up on the third floor. Thankfully, he was alone. She didn't think she would have cared though.

"Bruce," she was a little breathless, having essentially sprinted around to find him.

He turned to her in surprise. His eyes looked red and damp, like maybe he'd been crying, and all of her fine plans of saying words flew out of her head. She took three firm steps, put a hand on either side of his face, and kissed him.

 It didn't take long to get him on board, pulling her sharply against him with a hand low on her back, fingers digging into her hip, the other hand on the back of her neck, tangled in her hair as he devoured her, his tongue fighting with hers for dominance, his teeth dragging against her lips, making low noises as her nails scratched against his scalp, her hips pressing against his until he positively growled at her, pushing her up against the lab bench.

"Wait wait wait," she put her hands against his chest and pushed him back breathlessly, his hand gripping underneath her thigh, trying to pull her closer to where he wanted her.

"I have words," she said a little dazedly, because god dammit that man knew how to kiss her senseless.

 The corner of his mouth turned up, "You have words?"

"Yes," she said firmly, "important ones." He released her leg, but refused to move away. She reached up and brushed her thumb along his cheek just under his eye, it was still damp. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just walked away."

 He took her wrist and ducked his head, kissing her palm. "It's alright," he said, "I probably deserved it."

"No," she said firmly, "that is not how this works Bruce. I just, I was hurt when you pushed me away, and I was so prepared to do the hard thing and go, and then you were saying all these perfect and amazing things, but I couldn't just turn off my anger right away. You may have noticed," she smiled up at him, "that my first instincts are sometimes kind of terrible."

 "You had every right to be angry," he said, his thumb rubbing circles against the back of her hand where he held it. "You still do. I thought maybe I'd waited too long, or that you'd come to your senses and were going to go anyways."

 "Stop that," she said, "I am in full possession of my senses," she looked at him with all the intent she could muster, "I know what I'm getting into, okay?"

"Okay," the slow sweet smile that spread over his face was doing funny melty things to her insides.

 "The point is that rule number one, from this day forward, is that I promise I will go against all my terrible instincts and say words first, walk away if I need to second."

He gave her a serious look, catching her other hand in his, "Then I get to make rule number two, right?"

 "Yeah," said Darcy, "Fair's fair."

"No matter what, if I say you need to walk away, you have to walk away."

"Bruce, I..."

"I mean it, I promise you that the best thing you can do for me if I feel like I'm losing control is get out of the blast radius. You have to promise me that."

 "I can do that," she said after a minute, "but I will hate every second of it, so try not to use rule number two very often, yeah?"

Bruce let out a sigh of relief, like he'd been holding his breath. "Deal." He leaned in and kissed her, sweet and soft and perfect.

 When he pulled back, Darcy's eyes were still closed, because this was one of those moments she was trying to lock into the memory banks.

"Rule three," she said in a breathless sigh, "I never want to go another day without kissing you like that."

 "Rule four," said Bruce, "I am so in love with you."

Her eyes popped open.

"I have been for so long, Darcy. And I'm so sorry I've been such an idiot, and I still think that you deserve more than this,"

She glared at him. He smiled at her, "Hey, I'm working on it. And I'm going to keep working on it, every day, as long as you'll have me."

She kissed him then, because what else could she do? His hand went back to her thigh, hitching her leg around his waist. Almost without noticing how he had done it, he had lifted her until she sat on the edge of the bench, one leg wrapped around his waist, a hand tucked into the back of his pants, the other pulling him into her, as close as she could get.

 He broke away, teasing with teeth and tongue and lips down the column of her neck. "You know," he said in a tone that would have been almost conversational if his breath wasn't hitching against her collarbone, "I have imagined this before," she could feel his smile against her skin as he pressed his lips against the upper curve of her breast. "You right here, like this on a lab bench."

 "Why Bruce Banner, are you talking dirty to me?"

"I have layers," he said, pulling back and looking at her with darkened eyes and a slow grin that should seriously just be illegally sexy.

And it wasn't the things he had said to her, or the way he kissed her, or the way his hands felt against her skin, but it was this, right here, this easy way that he had about him when he was just himself, that made all of the shit they had come through to end up right here worth every moment.

 "Hey Bruce?" she said, looking at him as he ran her fingers over the curve of her calf and the bend of her knee.

"Hmm?" he looked pretty riveted by what he was doing.

"I Rule four you too."


	13. Epilogue

A little while later, they emerged breathless and flushed from the lab, walking through the hallways of SHIELD, hands linked together, recklessly ignoring the fraternisation rules like there was no tomorrow.

"So," said Darcy as they reluctantly broke apart to slide into Bruce's car, "Want to bet that Tony was running a pool on whether or not we'd work this out?"

"Darcy," Bruce rolled his eyes with a grin, "I'm kind of a genius, what makes you think I'd be stupid enough to bet against that?"

"Well," said Darcy with a truly wicked smile as she crawled halfway across the car's console, dropping a hand to run down his thigh and whispering hotly into his ear, "Rule five, all bets are payable in sexual favors."

"Yeah, sounds good you're on." said Bruce immediately, his knuckles tightening on the wheel.

Darcy fell back into her seat with a laugh that was free and easy and unhindered. There was this well of joy inside her, and she took stock of her life, and maybe it wasn't the easiest life she could choose, but right now, and maybe for the first time in her life, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

**The Rules**

Rule 1 - Darcy will say words first, walk away second.

Rule 2 - If Bruce calls it, Darcy will run the other direction, no matter what.

Rule 3 - Kiss me, every day.

Rule 4 - I love you.

Rule 5 - All bets can be paid in sexual favors

Rule 6 - Check the room for sneaky assassins before any clothing is removed

Rule 7 - Oh god, yes that, right there. Fuck.

Rule 8 - No distracting Bruce during delicate experiments. It's going to take weeks for the lab to stop smelling like that.

Rule 9 - I don't care how good my ass looks in running pants, I am not having outdoors sex with you where SHIELD is watching. Ok, maybe just this once.

Rule 10 - If we're going to fight about this, we are going to have to do this out at containment because you are seriously getting on my last nerve here.

Rule 11 - We should always shut off the video feed before having containment make-up sex

Rule 12 - I am never giving up on you, so I guess you're just stuck with me forever.


End file.
